


Ever On and On - Path Two

by badskippy



Series: Ever On and On [3]
Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien, The Lord of the Rings (Movies), The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon, Anal Sex, Bilbo Is Awesome, Everyone Lives at beginning, Everyone lives, Explicit Sexual Content, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Oral Sex, Parallel Universes, Sticks with canon as much as possible, Thorin's A+ Parenting, Uncle Thorin, along with made up stuff, canonical, combination book and movie, some canonical deaths
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-09-01
Updated: 2014-06-14
Packaged: 2017-12-25 07:40:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 19
Words: 109,637
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/950474
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/badskippy/pseuds/badskippy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Thorin Oakenshield was saved at the Battle of the Five Armies by his one love, Bilbo Baggins.  Now they gladly set off on life’s path together.  Life is like a road going on and on ....</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Battle of Five Armies

**Author's Note:**

> This story, and it's companion piece Ever On and On - Path One, are based on the same idea as the movie 'Sliding Doors' where even one tiny act can change the course of entire lives!
> 
> As always, a huge thank you to user WHYISITCLEVER for the invaluable service of editing.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes the battles we fight aren't with others but within ourselves

* * *

_**11/20/2941**_  

            Bilbo struck out at the Orc and it fell dead from the invisible attack. The little Hobbit laughed inwardly to himself _“This magic ring is a rather handy thing!”_ as he thrust his sword into the belly of another Orc.

            But even Bilbo was able to see the battle was not going well. The allied army, Dwarfs, Men and Elves were outnumbered and the Orcs and Wargs spread over the land like spilled ink over parchment. Bilbo refused to give up – he had already risked and lost more than he could ever put into words and he would not see it all end in defeat.

            With a great cry the gates of Erebor opened, and Thorin and his company charged into the battle. Their cries of death for the advancing foes filled Bilbo with hope, but his heart beat wildly to see his beloved Thorin throw himself so recklessly into the fray. But he also had to admit, that there was no one braver than Thorin and even with all that had transpired between them, Bilbo loved Thorin more than ever.

            _I will not see him stand alone!_ Bilbo thought as he raced towards Thorin. He would be more than happy to give his life for Thorin if it meant the Dwarf-king’s safety. As he ran to his king, Bilbo caught sight of a rock, hurtled from the mountain as defense, sailing towards him. Throwing himself forward, the rock missed him by a whisper, but Bilbo was not deterred.

            As he closed in, Bilbo saw Thorin’s nephews, Fili and Kili fighting between the King and hordes of Orcs. Three spear carriers closed in on the Princes, but just as they were about to strike, Bilbo lashed at the back of their thighs in quick savage motions and the three Orcs fell to the ground, unable to stand. Shocked, the Princes still did not waste time in finishing off the foul creatures.

            Now it was just Thorin and the vilest of beings, The Pale Orc - Azog the Defiler. Hell-bent on crushing the line of Durin, Azog and Thorin battled to the death. The Pale Orc swung his mace and caught the Dwarf-king across the chest, sending him flying backwards. As Thorin attempted to get up, Azog swung again and this time, Thorin’s shield flew out of his grasp and Bilbo was close enough to hear Thorin’s arm break. The Pale Orc raised his mace high above his head with his good hand, ready to bring it down in a killing blow.

            Time seemed to slow and Bilbo, still unseen, leapt over Thorin, throwing himself at Azog. With his Elven sword outstretched and his full weight behind it, Bilbo impaled The Pale Orc just below his heart. Reaching up with his other hand as he started to fall to the ground, Bilbo dragged the sword downwards and sliced open Azog’s abdomen almost to his groin.

            The Orc, in disbelief, dropped his weapon and fell to his knees. He quickly used both his hand and his iron claw to hold close the gapping wound. But it was clearly a shock to both Azog and Thorin as they stared at the blank space between them.

            With a quick flick of his thumb, Bilbo removed his ring and slipped it into his pocket. Azog was incredulous as the Hobbit appeared out of thin air.

            “Remember me?” Bilbo sneered sardonically as he grabbed his sword with both hands and sent a determined swing towards Azog’s neck.

            But the fight was not over. Azog was quick and using his iron-clawed hand to keep the wound close, he reared back and avoided Sting by a hair’s width. It gave him just the time he needed to grab his mace with his free hand and bring it arching at Bilbo. In turn, Bilbo was just able to bring Sting back around to block the mortal strike, but the force sent him to the ground, Sting flying far out of reach and forced Azog to drop his mace.

            Bilbo tried to recover but was not fast enough to escape The Pale Orc’s grasp; Bilbo felt Azog’s vice-like grip close around his throat. Azog laughed, if one could call the grating, gravel-like noise that issued from the Orc’s throat a laugh, and spat out something in Black Speech that Bilbo couldn’t translate but didn’t need to – he was going to die and soon. He was starting to see spots as his air was cut off. As Azog continued to spit out his unintelligible vile at him, Bilbo could only think of Thorin, _I wish it was his face I could look upon last, and not this pale imitation of life._ But before he could think more, Azog’s eyes widened and Bilbo watched as a blur of silver danced into view, Azog’s head went sailing off and Bilbo felt air return to his lungs.

            The Pale Orc was defeated.

            Bilbo turned and saw Thorin, weak – struggling to keep standing, holding his sword - Azog’s blood dripping from its blade.

            Thorin sneered at Azog's body.  "No one touches my One," Thorin snarled as he slowly began to sink to his knees

            The Hobbit sprang to his feet, grabbed Sting and moved to help Thorin slowly to the ground.

            “Where did –” Thorin stammered.  "How did you -"

            “No time to explain, my king.” Bilbo said, as he dispatched one of the few remaining Orcs who did not flee from their presence as The Defiler fell and at that same instant, saw salvation. “The Eagles! The Eagles are here!”

            As the great Eagles joined the allied ranks, Beorn, in giant bear form entered the battle and the few Orcs near Thorin were ripped to pieces.

            “Bilbo,” Thorin said as Bilbo came and knelt beside him, “what did you think you were doing– you could have been killed, you foolish Hobbit!"

            “Saving the one I love,” Bilbo answered as he gave Thorin a quick kiss. “You reckless old Dwarf.”

            Cradling Thorin’s head against his chest, Bilbo held tight to his sword, ready to kill any enemy foolish enough to come near them.

            None were.

 

\-----oooooOOOOO88888OOOOOooooo-----

 

 

            After screaming for assistance for what seemed ages -- but was in fact only twenty minutes -- Bilbo was finally able to call over Dwarrow warriors to have Thorin taken off the battlefield to one of the nearby healing tents. All the while, Thorin had refused to release Bilbo’s hand. It was no different once he was placed on a cot in the tent.

            “My lord,” said one of the Dwarf healers, “we must dress your wounds and it would be easier without your … friend, impeding our work.” The healer gave a pointed look to Bilbo who could feel his ears turn red.

            “I will _not_ ,” Thorin said, in a calm but threatening voice, “be parted from my One!” He glared at the healer with an expression of unquestionable authority and dared any to countermand his wishes. Which they didn’t.

            “Besides, you can well use Master Baggins to assist you with my other wounds so you that you may set my shield arm and then go to tend to the more grievously injured.”

            As the healer nodded and scrambled out of the tent to get supplies, Bilbo and Thorin turned to each other.

            “Thorin –“

            “I know what you will say,” Thorin said, squeezing Bilbo’s hand to quiet him. “You owe me neither apologies nor explanations.” Bilbo raised both brows in surprise but said nothing. “It is I that owe you my deepest regrets and can only hope and pray that you will forgive me and my treatment of you. I beg your forgiveness.”

            At any other time, Bilbo might have been stunned, shocked, maybe even amused that Thorin Oakensheild had just apologized to him. But now was not one of those times – no, far from it.

            “Thorin,” Bilbo said gently, “I will not give what you do not need – I cannot blame you for your actions because I am the one that brought them on me.” Bilbo’s eyes began to sparkle with tears, “I had the best of intentions but I went about it all the wrong ways! It is I that must beg your forgiveness.”

            Thorin gently cupped Bilbo’s cheek with his one good hand. “You had my forgiveness the second you were out of my sight.” Thorin’s voice sounded heavy. “I realized only too late after you left that I had been a fool and that you were correct.  I choose hoarded gold and gems over your heart - which i should have held as something of far greater value.”

            Bilbo cried soft tears and leaned into Thorin’s touch.

            “Let us not speak anymore of this, Bilbo. I wish to have it behind us now and only move forward.”

            Bilbo smiled and felt a weight lift off him. “Of course, Thorin.”

            “From now on, Bilbo, you are the only treasure I seek and I wish to mine the depths of you heart for what riches I may find there.”

            Bilbo gave Thorin a toothy grin, “The next time someone tells me that Dwarves are not romantic or poetic, I will inform them of that little speech!” Bilbo just giggled and stood up to give Thorin a quick kiss on his cheek.

            “Do not take amusement in my emotions, Bilbo,” Thorin said with a small smile, “I mean them sincerely.”

            “I know you do.” Bilbo gently brushed Thorn’s hair off his forehead and corrected the Dwarf’s braids so that they hung neat and straight.

            The healers re-entered and began to remove Thorin’s armor with Bilbo’s help. When Thorin was down to just his pants, the healers set to cleaning and dressing his wounds as well as setting his broken arm. Of course, when the healers pulled the fractured limb, regardless that the action was necessity to set it, Thorin did spit out what Bilbo was sure were curses and insults in Khuz-dul. From the tone in Thorin’s voice to the sneer on his face, Bilbo was actually pleased he couldn’t understand what was being said.

            What also pleased Bilbo was that while Thorin’s armor was ruined it had done its job and absorbed most of Azog’s strike. Yet, it still pained him to see a long angry gash across Thorin’s chest from lower left to upper right and Bilbo knew that it would scar.

            “Stay with me,” Thorin said, ignoring the healers who were right there.

            “I'm not leaving,” Bilbo said trying to sound casual, as he dressed Thorin’s right arm. “I have to finish this.” However, Bilbo steadfastly refused to meet Thorin’s gaze as he could feel his face and ears going red.

            “No, you misunderstand. I mean –“

            “I know what you meant.” Bilbo interjected just above a whisper. “I just think we should have this conversation privately.” Bilbo now gave Thorin a pointed look and raised his brows.

            But Thorin merely looked at him, confused.

            “Why?!” Thorin asked, in a rather loud and incredulous voice. “Do you suddenly not feel the same for me as I do for you?!”

            “No! Of course not!” Bilbo was take aback and feeling fidgety. “It’s just – you know – your people may want you to – to, you know –” Bilbo stammered but now noticed that the healers and other dwarves in the tent were also looking at him in the same confused manner as Thorin.

            “To what?” Thorin said sitting back as comprehension slowly dawned on his face. “Marry someone who wears pretty dresses made with gold and silver thread and produce an overabundance of Dwarrow prince-lings?” Thorin huffed out dryly as the other dwarves in the tent chuckled and look at each other.

            “Well, yes! Actually!” Bilbo retorted a bit annoyed and feeling that he was clearly missing something.

            “You never cease to amuse me, you silly Hobbit,” Thorin said, giving Bilbo a radiant smile which lifted Bilbo’s spirit to see on Thorin’s battle-bruised face. “There is no shame or impropriety in our relationship in my culture. Is it so in yours?”

            “Well, no,” Bilbo said, relaxing a bit but still a bit confused. “It’s not common but it is certainly not unheard of and not looked at as disreputable -- as long as the parties involved are in good standing in the community. You may often find confirmed old bachelors sharing a home for companionship and fellowship.”

            The healer finished and moved off as Thorin leaned close to Bilbo and whispered, “I can guarantee you that I will be expecting more than mere companionship.” He gave Bilbo a wink that was pure cheek and Bilbo blushed and smiled sheepishly.

            “In Dwarf culture,” Thorin said in an even tone meant to calm Bilbo, "our relationship is not uncommon at all.  Dwarf men outnumber women two to one. And it is not unheard of for a fair number of those women to refuse marriage and devote their entire lives to their craft or profession. Thank Mahal that dwarves that do marry often produce large families and twins are quite the norm.

            “No Bilbo, our relationship is far from unusual. And besides, even if it were, my people would not question their king’s choice of consort. Especially since it is you and I.” Thorin said the last sentence in an offhanded way as if it would be obvious to a blind cave troll.

            “What do you mean, ‘ _especially since it is you and I_?’” Bilbo asked, surprised. “I mean, I can understand you, Thorin – the King who reclaimed Erebor for his people – but _me_?”

            Thorin was almost shocked. “Bilbo! Are you serious? Must I give you a tally of your accomplishments and heroics?

            “Even forgetting for a moment that you followed a band of Dwarves for little reason; played for time when trolls wanted to eat those same said Dwarves; escaped a goblin’s lair alone, slew giant spiders and freed us from Thranduil’s imprisonment.  Forget even the fact that at great risk to own person you saved the lives of both heirs to the throne of Erebor and saved the life of its King, not once but twice, and helped slay Azog the Defiler with little more than gall and a Elven dagger!

            “But do not forget, Bilbo Baggins, that you riddled with the very beast that took our kingdom from us - our home; found the weakness that led directly to the beast's death and began the first steps in peace and reconciliation between Dale, Erebor and even the Woodland Elves!”

            Thorin’s voice grew thick and he threw out his one good arm and pulled Bilbo into a crushing embrace. “I will not tolerate  _any_ question of your merit! Not even from you, my dear Hobbit.”

            Bilbo wrapped his arms around Thorin in return, laying his cheek upon the Dwarf's muscular chest and softly said, “I would have gladly given my life to protect you.”

            “And that fact alone," Thorin said quietly, "even after I treated you so cruelly and unfairly, should be enough for even you to understand that it is I who should feel unworthy of you.”

            Bilbo reached up and wiped a tear from Thorin’s eye and he felt as if his heart would burst.

            “Stay with me,” Thorin said again.

            “As I told you Thorin, I am not leaving,” Bilbo answered, the full meaning now quite clear to both of them.

            Later, as Thorin slept, Bilbo continued to hold tight to Thorin’s good hand and he thought _“I wonder if we will visit the Shire now and then?”_ Bilbo didn’t know and, at that moment, frankly didn’t care.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Dwarrow Families - Children** (This is my head canon ... based on canon)
> 
> Tolkien states that only 1/3 of the population of Dwarfs are females - and he further stated that only some of those females agree to marry at all.
> 
> What he DOESN'T state is how large Dwarf families are. SO .....
> 
> If females only make up 33% of the population, and let's assume that only 2/3 of those, or 2/9 (25% about of the total population) actually marry, that means that, if i am calculating it correctly, that each married couple would have to produce a family with about 8 children JUST TO MAINTAIN their population numbers! YIKES!!
> 
> Now, Tolkien does say that the Dwarrow, as a race, do fail. And for all we know, during the time of the Hobbit, the Dwarfs may be on the downward slide into extinction - according to canon Durin VII led his people back to Khazad-dum and there they stayed "until the world grew old and the Dwarves failed and the days of Durin's race were ended"
> 
> *** BTW - This disproportionate male-to-female population, also, scientifically, supports the notion that Dwarfs would have same-sex relationships, especially between it's males. (Studies have shown that when a population of animals in the wild or in captivity, have a higher number of one sex or the absence of either sex completely, the animals will pick partners of the same sex. Three well known animals studied have been Sea Gulls, Lions and Penguins.
> 
>  ------------
> 
>  **What Azog told Bilbo:** Basically Azog insulted Bilbo and told him that while he may have wounded him, he would make Thorin watch as he took the life of a worthless mite that was wasn't good for anything but being the Dwarf King's whore.  
>  Yeah, not really a nice guy.  
> I will leave up to you as to whether Thorin understood Black Speech enough to know what Azog had said.
> 
> \------------
> 
> For those wondering, Azog's son, Bolg, was defeated (killed), by the Durin brothers. You will read about that in another chapter further along.


	2. Fit For A King

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thorin improves and gives Bilbo a gift fit for a king.

* * *

 

             As the weeks passed, the great kingdom of Erebor came slowly back to life, each day brought more dwarves to the mountain and the rebuilding increased.  New iron bridges took the place of the broken, unsalvageable stone ones.  Sleeping chambers and kitchens were cleaned and readied.  The craft shops were all reopened so that everything from weapons, jewelry and toys could be made and sold.  Even the town of Dale was blessed with the influx of masons and builders and all in exchange for food for Erebor; the old trading system quickly took shape.

            But one of the hardest thing was the disposal of the dead  There were so many bodies that there was not enough time to excavate new burial chambers for the masses, and so for several days after the battle, huge funeral pyres burned at all hours of the day and night.  Thorin knew that his people were heartsick over it but they all realized that burials was just not possible.  The ashes were taken up and the stone cutters were already working on a giant urn to hold them all.  The urn would be displayed in the kingdom’s most populous area and there it would stand; a memorial for all to remember the brave warriors who defended their home.

            Bilbo healed nicely, he had minor cuts and bruises, but for the most part he was relatively unscathed.  This made Bilbo very happy as he was completely free to care for Thorin.

            Thorin was not as lucky.  Yes, Bilbo had saved him but the chest wound caused by Azog was troublesome and it took longer than expected to heal.  Thorin’s left arm was healing well but the healers stated it would be a full two months before they were even thinking of removing the heavy splint and bandages.  But Thorin didn’t complain.  He was grumpy and irritated about being confined for so long, but glad to be alive and to be back in Bilbo’s good graces.

            It wasn't until three weeks after the battle, that Thorin had finally been cleared to be up and out of bed for longer than a few minutes each hour.  This made him happy, but also brought a great deal more work for him to deal with - much more work than Bilbo liked.  Every decision of the kingdom had to be made and approved by the King.  Bilbo worried that the added strain, coupled with Thorin’s still healing injuries was slowing his recovery.  Throin did not want to appear weak, but Bilbo did not want him to _become_ weak. 

            “A Dwarf king,” Thorin stated firmly, “does not need nursemaiding.”

            “A Dwarf king,” Bilbo countered, “who isn’t recovering from near life-ending injuries doesn’t need nursemaiding, no." Thorin scoffed at the idea that his injuries were that bad.  "But you are still recovering and you should let others help you.”

            “A Dwarf king should not require help!”

            “My apologies,” Bilbo said quietly, looking more than a little hurt. “I was under the impression you wanted me to stay.  I thought you needed me.”

            Thorin released a frustrated huff.  “Bilbo, I do need you and do want you to stay - this has nothing to do with that.”

            “I beg to differ.  I don’t want to be someone who is only here for your pleasure.  I want to assist you, to stand by your side, to be an actual partner – and that means more than braiding your hair or soothing your urges!”

            Thorin shook his head and sighed.  “I do not wish to be viewed as unworthy to rule.”

            “A king who doesn’t take advice from his advisers - or even his consort, could fall into that category.”

            Thorin stared at Bilbo with an unreadable expression.  Bilbo just waited and hoped that his words were having some effect.  He was truly worried about how hard Thorin was pushing himself and worried that his recovery would take longer or - Yavanna forbid, Thorin have a setback. 

            “Very well,” Thorin said, raising his brows, “what does my consort advise?”

            Bilbo smiled and set out his ideas.  Balin would take over minor issues with the rebuilding and clean-up.  Dwalin was to deal with the army and defense and Bilbo could be the liaison between Thorin and the Elves.  Thorin didn’t like the idea of Bilbo being any closer than he already was with the 'tree-shaggers', but he couldn’t deny that Bilbo was the best person for the job.  In the end, Thorin would still have final say in all matters.

            As the days rolled by, although Thorin did not wish to admit it, Bilbo has been proved correct.  Now that Balin, Dwalin and Bilbo had taken over some of the routine and minor jobs, Thorin felt lighter, less burdened and his health improved greatly.  He was unsure if he should tell this to Bilbo, but had a felling his Hobbit knew already.  As a credit to him, Bilbo never said a word and gave Thorin one more reason to love him fiercely. 

           To aid a dwarf is to form a bond with that dwarf, for he will always remember and repay.  But to aid a Dwarf king is to rouse gratitude as great as his wealth; and for Thorin, so used to being the lone leader, it was incalculable.  So it was that when Bilbo had gone to Dale to meet with the men and Elves regarding farm restoration, Thorin put his plan in action.

            It had been almost seven weeks since the battle and the living chambers for the king and court were almost ready – Thorin had wanted to have the other living chambers ready before his.  However, Thorin had to admit that he was glad to be heading back into the mountain - especially as winter was upon them.  Not only did Dwarrows not like to be out in the open but he felt that his quest would only be truly over when Erebor could be occupied and lived in.

            “So,” Balin said to Thorin, at one of the last suppers to be had in the tents.  “When are you thinking of moving quarters?”  Dwalin was also there as well as Bilbo, as all three had given reports on the ongoing progress. 

            “In two days,” Thorin responded.  “I want to make sure all the living quarters for the population are readied.  I do not feel it right that I should have luxury while the average dwarf would be sleeping in an open corridor.”

            Bilbo was filled with pride at Thorin’s concern for his people.  It spoke volumes of his character and his compassion, and to a Hobbit, helping others and good character are utmost.  He could not help smiling to himself.

            “What are you musing about?”  Thorin said, having turned a narrowed gaze on Bilbo.

            “Nothing,” Bilbo replied, with the most innocent expression he could conjure, “just thinking about being in a real bed for a change and not sleeping on a cot.”

            There was movement outside the tent and a guard came through the flap.  “Forgive me, your majesty, but there is a metal-smith here to see you.”

            “Excellent!”  Thorin said, clearly expecting the visit.   He stood up from the table and walked towards the tent opening.  “Please have her come in.”

            As the guard exited, a female dwarf came in carrying two wood boxes, one slightly larger than the other.  Bilbo had only seen a couple of female Dwarf before and was still taken aback by the sight.  She had dark blonde hair that was braided close to her scalp in two large braids, from her forehead to the nape of her neck, but at that point the double braids broke into dozens of smaller ones that cascaded down her back, almost to her waist.  She had no mustache at all and her beard did not extend high on her cheeks.  _She must be young,_ thought Bilbo.  Her chin strap beard was also braided close to the skin, and at her chin they merged into one long simple braid.  Bilbo could see how the race of Men could confuse female dwarrow for male.   Overall, he had to admit that the young female dwarf had a certain “handsomeness” about her.

            “Your Majesty,” the female said to Throin as she bowed, “here are the --” her gaze fell onto Bilbo and she gave him a small smile, “-- items you commissioned.”

            “Thank you, Luta.”  Thorin held out a hand with gold coins, but Luta shook her head.

            “No, my king.  Please accept these as gifts for you and your consort!”  Luta turned again to Bilbo and gave him a warm smile, this one bigger than the last.  Bilbo felt a warm flush in his cheeks and returned Luta’s smile.

            “We thank you then for your generous gifts,” Thorin said with a nod of his head.

            Luta beamed at him and bowed, then turned to leave but not without giving Bilbo another glance as she left.

            “What was that about, Thorin?”  Bilbo asked, now intrigued.

            “My friends,” Thorin, said to Balin and Dwalin, “would you leave us, please.”  It was not a question.

            “But I am not done!”  Dwalin said, his mouth full of roasted elk.

            “You are now.”  Thorin shot the warrior Dwarf a sharp look that would have scared most sensible dwarf, but Dwalin merely rolled his eyes and got up.  He did, however, take his plate with him.

            “I must be going anyway,” Balin said with a bow to Thorin.  "I have to inspect the finished archive room before retiring.  Good night, your majesty; Master Baggins.”  Balin gave a bow to Bilbo and turned to leave.

            “You know,” Bilbo said, “I am not sure if I will get used to Balin bowing to me.  Even a small one.”

            “You are to be consort to the King of Erebor,” Thorin said.  “You deserve to be shown respect.  And woe to the dwarf or visitor that fails to do so.”  Thorin said that last with a bit of a growl to his voice.

            “So what are in the boxes?”  Bilbo was feeling some excitement.  There is nothing like an unopened gift to get a Hobbit’s heart fluttering.

            “As you may not be aware,” Thorin answered, unlocking the first box, “the crown of Erebor was lost outside of Moria when my grandfather was killed.  This is the replacement.”  Thorin opened the box and took out a large, gold and silver crown with chevron shaped arches.  Bilbo was amazed.

            “That’s beautiful,” Bilbo said, “Luta does wonderful work.”

            “She does,” Thorin answered, “but it was not this crown that I hired her for.  There are plenty of references and depictions of this crown in the archives.  Any Dwarrow metal-smith with half a brain could reproduce it.  I hired her for this.”  Thorin said, pointing to and pulling the slightly smaller box towards him and unlocked it.

            “Bilbo,” Thorin said, not opening the box, “I want you to know that I love you very much.”  He turned to look at Bilbo, who was taken by the soft, but almost sad look in Thorin's eyes.

            “I know that, Thorin," Bilbo said, reaching out to take Thorin's hand.  By Yavanna, the look on Thorin's face made his heart ache.

            “As such," Thorin continued, "it does pain me that when the coronation comes, I cannot crown you as an equal - there cannot be two Kings and I do not feel that ‘Queen’ is a title that anyone, you and I included, would think of as appropriate for you.”  While 'Consort' allowed Bilbo to be regent at times when Thorin was unable to rule, this only applied while Thorin lived.  At his -- passing, which Bilbo refused to think about -- Bilbo lost all rights to rule.

            Bilbo nodded his head in total agreement.  He was not Dwarrow - and even if Thorin had offered, Bilbo would have refused any such royal title.  “Consort is fine, Thorin.  We talked about it already.  Really, I understand the position.”  Bilbo didn’t care about a title, just being at Thorin's side was enough.

            “Still,” Thorin continued, “I want to make sure that you are treated and viewed with the respect that you deserve.  As Consort, you will have my ear above all others and it will be to you that I look first for advice.  That is why I had this made for you.”  Thorin opened the box and Bilbo felt he couldn’t breathe.

            It was a circlet of silver and gold, designed to look like an interwoven garland of ivy vines and leaves.  Each vine was in polished silver and even had curling tendrils scattered here and there.  The leaves were of various sizes and in different shades of gold - from a pale almost white, to bright and shining, to a burnished.  Bilbo was amazed at the attention to detail and was struck by the tiny veins on each leaf; so real-looking he thought it would tremble if he touched it.  But what set the entire thing off was that scattered on each leaf, rested tiny diamonds that gave the impression of the morning dew.  Bilbo was speechless.

            “I didn’t want a copy of my crown,” Thorin said quietly, "and a plain circlet would not do.  I wanted something that would mean something to you, to honor your heritage and I know how much Hobbits love things that grow and –“

            Thorin didn’t finish as Bilbo pulled him into a fierce embrace and kiss.  If there was a more perfect gesture or gift to give a Hobbit consort, Bilbo could not think of it.  That fact that Thorin had put that much thought and consideration in the circlet, meant its monetary value could never compare to it's symbolic and emotional value.

            “Thank you,” Bilbo said, as they pulled apart.  “It’s the most beautiful thing I have ever received.”  That was no lie - he was gobsmacked.  And while gems and gold meant nothing to Hobbits, even Bilbo could see the love and meaning that Thorin had put in the design - how could any Hobbit not appreciate that?

            “You are more than welcome,” Thorin said, kissing the palms of each of Bilbo’s hands.  “And I want you to accept it as the first of your courting gifts.”

            “Courting gifts?”

            “Yes.  I intend to court you as any proper Dwarf would do for his mate.”

            Bilbo hadn’t even thought about courting.  “So even your males that enter into relationships court?”

            “Of course!”  Thorin was almost surprised at the question.  “Do Hobbits not court?”

            “Well, males do court females yes.  But two males usually don’t court; it isn’t considered necessary.”

            “Necessary?”  Thorin looked almost appalled.  “That seems - almost uncivilized.  Something I never thought to hear about Hobbits.”

            “Oh no, no, no.  It’s nothing like that,” Bilbo said, trying to quickly clarify.  “The tradition is that, while females can and do marry whom they like, it is still considered proper to court with gifts to show her and her family that the male is sincere and that he will provide for her.  The gifts are usually practical and of everyday use so that it will also show that he is giving thought to their domestic life.  Even flowers and herbs in pots and ready for planting are good because it symbolizes growing together.

            “Now two males, as I have said, do form relationships but since they are considered double providers, the idea of courting isn’t deemed necessary for a good match nor is it required to show commitment.  However, gift-giving is very highly thought of as proper, so gifts may be exchanged between each of them, but as society believes they can provide for themselves, who do they need to impress?”

            “With Dwarrow,” Thorin said.  “it has nothing to do with gender but more to do with intent.  The first gift is given as the symbol of intention – the giver, or Proposer, is making a Proposal of Courtship – if the receiver, or Intended, refuses, the first gift is returned.   Of course, the Proposer may try again at a later date, but must wait at least four weeks between Proposals of Courting.

            “However, if the first gift is accepted, then the Intended has agreed to the courtship and that will take either four or eight weeks before an Offer of Marriage is given.”

            “Four _or_ eight?”  Bilbo asked, a bit confused.

            “It is normally four weeks,” Thorin replied.  “At that time, the Proposer will ask the Intended if they accept the Offer of Marriage and if yes, then courtship ends and a date is chosen.  If the intended is not sure, then the courtship will continue on for another four weeks and at that point, the Intended _must_ either accept or refuse.”

            “What happens if the courtship is refused?”  Bilbo asked hesitantly.

            “If there is a refusal, the Intended may keep the gifts, including the first one if they so desire, and the Proposer has no recourse.”  Thorin said, raising his brows in a pointed look.  “However, I can assure you that to refuse a courtship is extremely rare.  In fact, in all my years, I have never known or heard of a refusal.  In order for the refusal to be seen as warranted, the gifts would have to show either insincerity and/or poor craftsmanship – which are the same thing in the eyes of dwarrow.  Also it is seen as a sign of excessive avarice if there is a refusal and the gifts are of great value and high standards.  Respectable Dwarrow are diggers of gold, not gold-diggers -- if you catch my meaning.”

            “But you didn’t give me answer, Bilbo.”  Thorin said quietly, taking Bilbo’s hands in his.  “Will you accept this circlet as my first courting gift?”

            “Yes, Thorin Oakenshield, King Under the Mountain, I accept your proposal of courtship.”  Bilbo took hold of one of Thorin’s braids and gently pulled the king down for a warm kiss.

            As they broke apart, Thorin returned the circlet and crown to their cases and locked them.  He would call back Dwalin and have them secured in a royal vault for safe keeping.

            “Now,” Throin said, turning to Bilbo and leading him back to finish their supper, “I know I may be counting my gems before I cut them, but have you considered any particular date?”

            “Well, I am not sure, but I would like it in the Spring,”  Bilbo replied.  He hadn’t thought much about an actual day but he knew he didn’t want to do anything in the winter.

            “Very well, we can talk more about it after the courtship is over.”

            “Is there a special place we have to have the ceremony?”  Bilbo asked.

            “Ceremony?”  Thorin gave Bilbo a confused look. “What do you mean?”

            “The marriage ceremony.”

            “You mean the Signing?”

            “Signing?  Now I am confused.”  Bilbo wasn’t sure what Thorin was talking about.  What in the world would they sign?

            “Yes,” Throin said, “The Signing of the Marriage Contract.”  Thorin took a big swig of his ale as Bilbo almost choked on his.

            “Contract?!”  Bilbo was shocked.  “Are you saying that all we do is sign a piece of paper and that’s it – we’re married?!”

            “Of course,” Thorin said, clearly amused.  “What else could there be?”

            “Well, Hobbits,” Bilbo said trying to recover, “like Men and Elves, have a ceremony and then a large party of some type afterwards.”         

            “Interesting.”  Thorin was intrigued.  “What happens at this ceremony?”

            “We stand up in front of our families and friends and read out our marriage promises.  Then the Officiate – usually either the Mayor or one of the Shiriffs of The Shire -- although deputies can perform the ceremonies too – will then bless the couple; the couple kiss and then there is a huge celebration party that can last long into the night and sometimes the next morning.”

            “Dwarrow,” Thorin said, sitting back in his chair “as you may be aware, are not known for trusting.  We like our contracts where everything is spelled out and there are no questions.  It has evolved to include our marriages.  The Marriage Contact is simply a written version of our Marriage Promises and our intents and then it is signed by both parties and then the chosen witnesses for each of the parties involved.  The witnesses should be chosen so that there is no conflict of interest between the other party and/or the other party’s witness. I have already asked Dwalin, so that leaves Balin and Ori off your list of choices.”

            Bilbo sat back surprised.  “I can understand Balin – he’s Dwalin’s brother and they are both your closest friends – but why not Ori?  He and I have become good friends?”

            Thorin swallowed hard and contemplated.  He had a look on his face that seemed to show apprehension -- or was Bilbo seeing guilt there?  “I thought you knew.”  Thorin seemed uncomfortable.  “It seems Dwalin and Ori harbored some feelings for each other but never said anything.  But when the battle was over, there was a period when they couldn’t find Dwalin – he had been taken to one of the Dale Army’s healing tents – Ori thought him dead, and he proceeded to give a rather heartfelt and full confession of his feelings to most of the company.  It quickly got back to Dwalin when he was found.  Needless to say, Dwalin went to Ori and …”

            “And?”  Bilbo was on pins and needles -- Hobbits liked good gossip as much as good food.

            “Let’s just say,” Thorin said with a smirk, “Dwalin has recently given Ori his third courting gift.”

            Bilbo gave a good hearty laugh and clapped hands.  “I am so happy for Ori!  I am happy for both of them, don’t get me wrong, but Ori deserves happiness.  Of course, I am  going to speak to him about keeping me in the dark!

            “So, that leaves Ori out,”  Bilbo said.

            “It would be viewed as a conflict of interest. yes.”  Thorin nodded, giving Bibo an apologetic face.

            “I suppose I can’t ask your sister either?” 

            “No!  Definitely a conflict of interest there.  Although, she adores you and would be more than happy to throw tradition to the wind and tell me to go piss on a Elf for all that it matters, etc.  Of course, that also leaves out Fili and Kili.”

            “I would choose Gandalf but who knows if he will be here or not and as much as I love my cousin Drogo, I don’t even know if he would be able or willing to make such a long journey.  The only friends I have to ask are from the Company.”

            “Well, Dwalin, Balin, Fili, Kili and Ori are already out.  As Ori’s brothers, Dori and Nori should not be considered.  And Gloin and Oin are cousins - so you are left, my dear Hobbit, with Bofur, Bifur and Bombur.”

            “I love them all, but the clear choice is Bofur.  He was the one that I was closest to during the journey.”  When it was all said, Bilbo quite liked the idea of asking Bofur.  He was a kind soul and he had much concern for Bilbo’s safety.  But Bilbo felt like it was all anticlimactic.

            Thorin saw something written in Bibo’s expression and asked, “Are you having concerns?  Second thoughts?”  He didn't think so, but best to ask.

            “What?  Oh, no!”  Bilbo said, realizing he was giving the wrong impression.  “it’s just that - well, while I never planned on getting married - never thinking I would find the right one - the thought of not having a ceremony somehow feels -- well, if feels sort of wrong now.”

            “But you told me before that male Hobbits don’t have ceremonies.”

            “That’s true, my love, but you are so special to me, that I understand now how important it is to have something with your friends and family around you.  And now –“  Bilbo knew he was being overly sentimental but he couldn’t help it.  He wanted his love to be declared and celebrated.

            Thorin could see that Bilbo was truly disappointed and, as Mahal was his witness, he didn't want to see that look on Bilbo's face again!  He should set things right.  Taking Bilbo’s hands in his, Thorin gently turned him so that they were facing each other.

            “How about a -- compromise?”  Thorin asked.

            “Compromise?”  Bilbo asked with a smile on his face.  “You don't like that word.  In fact - didn't you tell me that there wasn't a Khuzdul word for that?”

            “Technically, there isn’t.  The closest is abùshâg -- to conquer.”

            Bilbo giggled.  “Well at least it’s not surrender!”

            Thorin looked him very earnestly.  “We don’t have a word for that either.”

            “Of course not," BIlbo couldn't keep from smiling.  “Tell me of your compromise, my love.”

            “Well,” Thorin said, throwing Bilbo a sly smile.  “Why don’t we have a small ceremony, just the Company, Dis and Gandalf -- if he shows -- and we will recite our Marriage Promises, then we will sign the traditional Dwarrow Marriage Contract, and then a huge party for everyone and stay awake all night if you want!”

            Bilbo was touched - it was a sweet gesture on his beloved part.  How could he refuse?  There was just one thing however.  “I accept,” Bilbo answered, “but I am not staying up all night.”  And then he gave Thorin a wicked little grin, “At least, not in public.”

            Thorin returned his smile and kissed him.  No King could ask for more.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **DWARF MARRIAGES:** (This is my head canon .... with help from Beetle)
> 
> Because the Dwarrow are a secretive race, Dwarf Contracts were established to makes sure that all transactions between them and other races were clearly stated, in writing, so that in any dispute, there would be no question. Of course, as most races will tell you, read all Dwarf contracts carefully as the fine print can trip you up and Dwarfs will follow the contract to the letter. 
> 
> Completed Contracts will be paid - either in coinage or whatever other payment stipulated within the contract - on time and in full, as Dwarfs don't like to be indebted. However, any contract that is unfulfilled at the end of the contractual period is considered null and void, unless both parties agree to an extension and an addendum of this agreement has been added to the contract. (Let it be noted, that Dwarfs do consider their promises as verbal contracts and most will hold themselves honor-bound to it, HOWEVER, there is NOTHING stopping a Dwarf from reneging, as a verbal contract is not binding under Dwarrow Law.)
> 
> Over time, the idea of contracts has evolved to include their marriages. They do not have weddings, per say, but rather signing ceremonies - as there is no need for priests or offerings to Mahal (although many do make such offers to ask for his blessing of the union). The contract will be signed by both parties and at least one witness of their choosing - but no more than three witness per party are allowed. 
> 
> (While arranged marries do happen, it is against the law for anyone to be forced into marriage, therefore LET IT BE NOTED THAT PARENTS CANNOT SIGN AS WITNESS FOR THOSE GETTING MARRIED. This allows no question as to whether either party (spouse) is being forced into the marriage. Also, the witness(es) for each party should not be related to, or connected with, the other witness(es) for the other party, or the opposing party themselves. Again, this is to avoid the question of one party being forced or coerced into the marriage by the other.) 
> 
> While couples may add or subtract ANY stipulation within the contract, most "vows" speak less of emotions and are more geared to providing for spouse and family, honesty, loyalty and fidelity (adultery is strictly forbidden and is considered grounds for immediately termination of the marriage contract - UNLESS, there is a stipulation in the marriage stating clearly that fidelity is not required - see below). For King Thorin II and his Consort, Bilbo Baggins, the marriage contract was enhanced with traditional Dwarrow stipulations as well as traditional Hobbit vows of Love, Honor and Provision - not to mention Fidelity (the later two being common to both).
> 
> Most marriages are Eternally Binding (as in the case of King Thorin II and his Consort, Bilbo Baggins of The Shire). However, there are also several types of unions among the Dwarrow which qualify as marriages, and can be either Eternally Binding or temporary - these contracts are considered "marriages" under Dwarrow Law and may simply be for the productions of heirs to fortunes or titles, or to unite two families. (These marriages are not usually binding in terms of fidelity - although, even within these marriages, extramarital relationships are not overly common. Yet, if a relationship outside of the marriages does take place, it is not view upon as dishonorable nor unwarranted, especially if the one has had to marry someone other than their One - AS LONG AS there as been a stipulation stated within the original marriage contract or an addendum has been added at a later date.) With all that said, as with all marriages, both parties (spouses) must be agreeable to the marriage and the restrictions for witnesses still apply.
> 
> There are also contracts for the different kinds of concubinage; male, female, multiple partner, and those of an outside race.
> 
> DIVORCE: There can be a "divorce", or in Khuz-dul "karak âzyungâlh", which literally translates "To Break The Lovers." This is a VERY RARE occurrence as most view divorce as a sundering of that which Mahal has created (which is odd because there is no religious basis for the contract to begin with). In order for a divorce to be granted, not only must both parties agree to the karak âzyungâlh, but at least one spouse must show clear evidence of the other spouses failure to meet one or more of the stipulations stated within the original contract or addendum if one be present.
> 
> *** Thorin and Bilbo had three witnesses each - the max number. Thorin had Dwalin, Dori and Kili (Fili, as heir apparent was deemed unacceptable). Bilbo had Bofur, King Bard and Gandalf (who did indeed show up, strangely, just two hours prior to the ceremony). Balin presided over the Dwarrow portion of the ceremony, while Gandalf gladly lead the Hobbit portion.


	3. Anniversary

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's is one year since the BoFA - and some battles are still being fought.

 

 

  
_**10/20/2942**  _     

            Bilbo Baggins, Consort of King Thorin II of Erebor, was not happy.  “This is outrageous!”  He glared at Thorin, his hands on his hips and he actually stomped his foot on the ground to make the point.  

            Thorin would have laughed but he was not in the mood to play games.  “I absolutely forbid it!”  Thorin countered.  He was tired of having this argument over and over again, but he was not backing down.

            “And pray tell me,” Bilbo said with a sardonic smile, “what is to keep Ori and I from marching right out the front gate?”  Bilbo turned to the Dwarf standing nest to him and they exchanged a quick nod of agreement.

            “About ten armed guards the moment you take two steps outside,” Thorin said flatly with a raised eyebrow.  Thorin looked over and shared a smirk with his Guard Captain, Dwalin, standing next to him; both dwarfs chuckled.

            Bilbo was almost beside himself.  “If I were taking a journey as far as Mirkwood, I would understand.  If I were planning a visit to the Shire, I would understand. _If I were going to take a month long beach holiday in Mordor, I would understand!"_   Bilbo was not above snarking at this point.  “But I am barely walking two thousand yards to Dale, for goodness sake!”  Bilbo was exasperated.  “Besides - I will have Ori with me!”  Bilbo said, while Ori nodded most empathically.

            Thorin was not swayed and only continued to look at Bilbo with a stony expression.  He was not about to let Bilbo wander around on his own, even if Ori came along, which amounted to same thing; he would not have Bilbo unguarded.  Judging from Dwalin’s expression he agreed with Thorin – neither dwarf was going to allow Bilbo or Ori, each treasured by Thorin and Dwalin respectively, to trot off together on some merry walk-about.

            “I think you are making a mountain out of a Hobbit hole,” Bilbo said.

            “Well then,” Thorin replied, “if it’s only a Hobbit hole, why not have the Men come here?  Why even go to Dale?” 

            Even a year after Smaug’s defeat and the Battle of the Five Armies, the farmland surrounding Erebor still had not recovered completely and both Dale and Erebor depended on good crops for continued survival.  As a Hobbit, growing things was like breathing and King Bard had asked Bilbo to advise the local farmers.  “Thorin,” Bilbo sighed, “I can’t bloody well assist with a ground assessment from inside a mountain!  I need to inspect the soil for a complete understanding of the issues!”  

            “That’s my point!” Thorin said, stabbing a finger at Bilbo.  “You aren’t just walking two thousand yards to Dale; you will be walking about in open farmland, looking down, while Ori has his nose and pen in a journal taking notes -- _neither_ of you in any position to be observant of your surroundings!”

            Bilbo and Thoirn glared at each other.  Neither showed any sign of surrender or giving in.  However, it was Dwalin who dropped the other shoe.

            “Bottom line is this,” Dwalin growled, “as long as Ori goes, I am sending escorts.  Period.” 

            Ori was incredulous.  “I don’t need to be escorted!”  He shot a hard glare at Dwalin, but it had zero effect on the battle-hardened Guard Captain.  “I can take care of myself!”  Dwalin didn’t say anything and gave his husband a look that said he was unmoved.

            But Bilbo knew he was defeated.  He had to take Ori, he was the only one who understood what Bilbo needed recorded and what was meaningless.  Plus, they worked very well together as Ori also had a love of plants, unlike most Dwarfs, and he gave Bilbo good insight.  Not to mention that while Bilbo was glad to debate and argue with Thorin and Dwalin regarding himself, he knew he had nothing to say about Dwalin sending guards for Ori.  Not even Ori would be able to dissuade Dwalin in that regard.

            “You win,” Bilbo relented.  “But _one_ guard, no more.”

            “Two,” Thorin insisted.  “One for each of you.”

            “Thorin!”

            “I can always make it four.”

            “Fine.  Two.”

            “Excellent,”  Thorin said, sitting back with a big grin.  He so loved getting his way, which was not always a sure thing when it came to arguments with Bilbo.  There was always that dreaded word -- _compromise_ – which Thorin loved to point out to Bilbo actually meant that no one got what they wanted.  “Now we just need to get two guards worthy of the Consort of Erebor.”  Bilbo rolled his eyes but Thorin didn’t care. 

            “I will volunteer to go, your Majesty,” came a voice from back of the room.

            Bilbo turned around and saw Gimli, son of Gloin.  The young dwarf had just completed the required training to be part of the royal guards and had proven himself recently, against a band of roaming Orcs.  Everyone in the room was aware of his father’s prowess with the axe, and had witnessed Gloin dispatch several Orcs at once with one mighty swing.  Bilbo knew for a fact that Gloin had trained his son from an early age, so as far as he was concerned, Gimli was perfect.  

            Dwalin, on the other hand, was not so convinced.  “You’re still wet behind the ears, boy!”  Bilbo wanted to laugh, because he knew Gimli was a decade older than himself, but in terms of Dwarf years, Gimli has just come of age.

            “I feel that I am more than up for the challenge, sir,” Gimli said in all seriousness.

            “I think he will do just fine,” Bilbo interjected before anything else was said, “and I gladly accept his offer to accompany me.”  If he was going to have an escort, he would choose his own.

            Thorin held up a hand to concede to Bilbo’s choice; if Bilbo wanted to choose the son of a man they both knew and trusted, then he was satisfied.  Dwalin, though, still had another card to play.

            “Very well, I will pick the second guard,” Dwalin said with a smirk.

            Bilbo looked at Ori and they had a whispered exchange.  “That’s fine.”  Both turned to leave and Gimli made to go with them, when Bilbo suddenly stopped.  “Oh, and Dwalin,”  Bilbo said, over his shoulder, “as Consort, I forbid you to pick yourself.”  He gave Dwalin a sly smile and both he and Ori giggled loudly.

            _Shit,_ thought Dwalin. _  
_

As the door closed behind Bilbo, Thorin turned to Dwalin. “So, you _are_ going then?”  Thorin asked.

            “Are you daft?”  Dwalin said, amazed.  “I can’t override Bilbo!  He’s the Consort.”

            Thorin used all his energy and strength not to roll his eyes.  “Must I remind you, that as King, I can, _and I am_ , overriding Bilbo!  You’re going to go as second.”

            Dwalin just looked at Thorin with raised brows.  “You do realize that you will be in the Warg's Den when he finds out you did that, don't you?”

            Thorin nodded.   “I’ve been thrown in front of the Orcs before.  I can handle it.”

            “Mordor hath no fury like a Hobbit scorned!”  Dwalin said, laughing uproariously as he left.

            Thorin, let out a heavy sigh and thought, _Don’t I know it_.

 

 -----oooooOOOOO88888OOOOOooooo-----

 

            In the end, the riding party turned out to be Bilbo, Ori, Dwalin, young Gimli and Balin.  Balin had some business with King Bard and had decided to ride along.  They all rode abreast with Ori and Dwalin on Bilbo’s right and Balin and Gimli on his left, the two guards on the outside.  Bilbo had no issue with the elderly dwarf riding along as Balin was not there to spy or confine Bilbo and his company was always welcome.  But this morning, Bilbo was not in a very sociable mood.

            Ori, on the other hand, was _actually_ pretty happy.  Sure he wanted to go along with Bilbo, just the two of them, and have – well, fun!  And yes, he was a bit irked that Dwalin came along anyway, even after Bilbo had told him he couldn’t.  But as soon as they were on their way to Dale and the sun was shining and the breeze was blowing, Ori started to feel vulnerable in the open air – as any good dwarf would – and he suddenly felt very happy that his love was riding beside him.

            Ori glanced sideways and watched Dwalin.  _Look at him!_   _So relaxed, so confident, so strong.  He isn’t afraid of anything!_   Ori knew that if anyone was foolish enough to come at them, Dwalin would be right there, protecting him – _protecting_ _them,_ he had to remind himself – and Dwalin would do it with a smile on his face!  Yes, Ori was pretty happy when he thought about it.

            Bilbo should have known that Thorin would override him and send Dwalin anyway.  _Gods, how infuriating!  As if I can’t take care of myself on a little walk!_   Bilbo had been sorely tempted to take his ring, leave everyone behind, and sneak out.  But no, Thorin had even planned for that and had started keeping the floors to the front gates highly polished so that anyone with one eye would see Bilbo’s footsteps, even when invisible.  And Dwalin had been warned to look for just such an action.   Bilbo shot the large dwarf a quick glance and thought about making a comment but he stopped.  He caught sight of Ori looking at Dwalin and knew that Ori was fine with Dwalin there; in fact Bilbo was positive Ori was very happy about it.  _Well, at least one of us can be happy._

“It certainly is a fine day.”  Gimli said, riding next to Bilbo.

            “Yes it is!” Bilbo said, “Not a cloud in the sky or an _Orc_ on the horizon.”  Bilbo let a smirk spread over his face.

            “You know better than anyone, your highness,” Dwalin said in an even tone without looking at the Hobbit, “that enemies don’t let you see them coming over the horizon.”

            _Okay, that’s it,_ Bilbo thought.  “Dwalin!  This is a simple farming inspection!  To send two heavily armed guards as escort is – well, it’s – _ridiculous_!”

            “Yes, so ridiculous.”  Dwalin kept his voice light but tone spoke differently.  “ _So ridiculous_ to send two armed guards, one of them Captain of the Royal Guards, to protect an ungrateful consort.”

            “Dwalin!”  Balin was shocked.

            Bilbo was taken aback.  “What do you mean by _ungrateful_?”

            “I’ll tell you what I mean,” Dwalin brought his pony to a halt and the rest of them followed suit.  He turned and gave Bilbo a hard, sharp look.  “Thorin has much on his mind.  He is never free of concerns running the kingdom; dealing with the Men and Elves, issues with production and trade.  Sure, he has advisors, but it’s all on his shoulders every day, all day, all night, at any time.  But one thing that weight even more on him is his concern for you!  So one would think you could show some gratitude that he cares so much about you, even willing to incur your wrath, just to keep you safe!   Mahal knows - you _certainly_ didn’t mind causing him grief to keep him safe!”

            Ori and Balin made audible gasps while Gimli made no sound but wore a wide-eyed expression on his face.  Dwalin showed no change but he knew as soon as the words left his mouth that he had gone too far.  He hadn’t meant to hurt Bilbo, he only meant to make a point, but as usual, he had done so bluntly and now the Hobbit had a wounded look in  his eyes.  Bilbo sat there downcast and he would have liked to have said Dwalin was wrong and that he should take it all back.  But he knew Dwalin was correct. 

            The silence between them stretched and finally Dwalin broke it.  “We need to get going.”  The warrior pulled the reins of his pony and urged it forward.  “I’ll take the lead.  Gimli, take the rear!”

            “Yes, sir!”  Gimli said, holding back as the others started forward.

            Ori gave Bilbo a worried look but said nothing as he rode ahead next to Dwalin.  Balin and Bilbo followed and rode side by side.  No one said anything for quite some time.  The story of the Arkenstone, Bilbo’s betrayal and Thorin’s gold-sickness, was well known at this point and in fact, had almost become a modern legend within Erebor.  But Thorin had refused to talk about it with Bilbo, stating that all was forgiven and he wanted it behind them and they just needed to move forward.  Now however, with the reference thrown out in such a veiled but pointed manner, it made Bilbo relive all the shame he felt over it.

            “Are you all right, laddie?”  Balin asked quietly. 

            “Yes. I’m – I’m okay.”  Bilbo was afraid to say much more lest his emotions start doing his talking.

            “Dwalin cares a great deal for Thorin.”

            “I know he does.”

            “And don’t let his gruff manner fool you.  He cares greatly about you as well.”

            Bilbo nodded but he was unconvinced.  “I am not sure that statement is true, Balin.  I certainly wouldn’t blame Dwalin if he had a low opinion of me.”

“Don’t fool yourself, Bilbo,” Balin said, smiling.  “If it wasn’t Thorin insisting you go with a guard, it would be Dwalin.  In fact, if I didn’t know how much he loved young Ori, I would swear he had a thing for you!”  Balin was pleased when his joke got Bilbo to smile a little.  Bilbo was reminded of a fairy story about Men where a great king had a beautiful queen and she in turn had a love affair with the great king’s best friend and greatest champion.  _Such silly fairy tales Men come up with!_

            Nothing else was said but the ride to Dale seemed to take forever.

 

 -----oooooOOOOO88888OOOOOooooo-----

 

            When the Dale party returned a few hours later, Bilbo’s mood had lightened, but he and Dwalin had not spoken since the morning ride and Bilbo was not sure how to approach him.  But all concerns were forgotten for a moment when Thorin appeared as they were dismounting.

            “So,” Thorin said, throwing Bilbo a brilliant smile and opening his arms in welcome. “How was the _dirt_?”  They both laughed, but Bilbo quickly wrapped his arms around Thorin’s waist and hugged him tight while pressing his face against Thorin’s chest.

            “What’s this all about?”  Thorin returned the embrace but was clearly surprised by the intensity.

            “Just missed you.”  Bilbo said quietly, not letting go.

            “I am not complaining, but if this what I get whenever you return from Dale, maybe you should start going every day!”

            Bilbo pulled back and reached up, cupping Thorin’s face with both hands.  “It shouldn’t take Dale for me to show you how I feel.”

            Thorin gave Bilbo a narrow, suspicious look.  “What happened?”

            “Nothing,” Bilbo said with a small smile.  “I am going to get ready for dinner.”

            Bilbo released Thorin but continued to hold Thorin’s right hand as he walked away - holding it for as long as he could until distance broke the bond.

            “Bilbo," the Dwarf-king’s soft voice made him stop and turn around. "Don’t rush.”  Thorin gave him a wink and Bilbo knew that meant Thorin would be joining him upstairs soon.

            As Bilbo retreated up the stairs and out of sight, the king turned to the remaining party.  “Would someone like to tell me what happened?  And don’t insult me by saying ‘nothing.’”

            They all exchanged looks but as the seconds continued to march by, Thorin’s question remained unanswered.

            “I need to see the council,”  Balin said, as he hurried away.  "Excuse me, your majesty."

            “I must get to the archive.”  Ori stated avoiding Thorin’s gaze as he too rushed off.

            “I need to – hum – be somewhere else.”  Gimli stammered as he scuttled away towards the barracks.

            Thorin looked at Dwalin who just stood there with a red face.  “Looks as if you have been abandoned, my friend.  Even by your mate."   He crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow at his Captain.  "What in the name of Durin's Beard happened?!”

            Dwalin swallowed hard and stepped forward.  “Well, I may have crossed a line.”

 

\-----oooooOOOOO88888OOOOOooooo-----

 

            Bilbo slid down in the large copper tub and sighed.  If there is one thing Hobbits love as well as getting in the dirt and growing things, it is a good bath afterwards.  Many believe that just because they don’t wear shoes, Hobbits have little concern for their feet and thus their general appearance.  This was as far from the truth as could possibly be.   A Hobbit with dirty feet and unkempt toenails is considered a social pariah.  No, being clean and respectable is very much a Hobbity trait and Bilbo was no exception. 

            But of course, this bath gave him more to consider than just his outward appearance.  Bilbo wished he could wash his guilt and thoughts away as easily.  Dwalin might not have intended to cause him pain, but Bilbo felt it none the less.  Regardless of Thorin’s insistence that all was forgiven, Bilbo still had not fully forgiven himself.

            At the sound of a door closing, Bilbo knew that Thorin had entered their chambers.  He heard the faint sound of metal meeting stone - _that would be the crown on the table,_ Bilbo thought - and then the clink of a belt buckle and the muffled sound of heavy material hitting the floor.  Footsteps approached the wash chamber door, followed by a soft knock.

            “Come in,” Bilbo answered.

            Thorin opened the door and just leaned on the frame looking at him.  He wore just his plain shirt and pants and for just a moment, Bilbo could see the Dwarf who stepped into Bag End almost two years ago and called him a grocer.  The one who stole his heart before either of them knew it.

            “Are you all right?”  Thorin asked softly.  _Clearly he has spoken to Dwalin,_ Bilbo thought.

            “Yes.  I’m fine.”  Bilbo gave Thorin a smile.  “I hope you weren’t too hard on Dwalin?”

            “I’m not happy with him, I can tell you that.”  Thorin came and knelt next to the tub, resting his arms on the edge.

            “He didn’t mean it the way it came out, I am sure,” Biblo said in Dwalin’s defense.

            “Oh, no doubt.  But that doesn’t mean I like what he said.”

            “He spoke the truth.”

            “No - he spoke his _opinion_ based on the facts.  That’s not truth.”

            “Thorin, facts are truth.”

            “If I kill an Orc, the _fact_ is I took its life.  But the _truth_ is, I killed it out of defense.  That puts a totally different shine on the fact.”

            “I think you’re splitting hairs.”

            “Even two diamonds; cut from the same gem, will not be exactly alike.  That’s the difference between facts and truth, Bilbo.  The facts are what any anyone can spout off, but the truth is what is between us - between our hearts, and that is not for anyone else to say or comment on.”

            Bilbo wrapped his arms around Thorin’s neck and pulled him into a kiss that was accepted and returned.

            “Thorin, we need –“

            “No, Bilbo.”  Thorin stopped him.  “What happened is in the past and we can’t change it - But I won’t drag it into the present.  It’s done and I want us to move forward.  All right?”

            Bilbo was glad to have Thorin there and glad for the words but he still felt guilt.  He would try to let it go.

            “Yes,” Bilbo conceded.

            “Good.”  Thorin stood up and started to undress.  “Now, move over and make room for me.”  He gave Bilbo a tender smile and Bilbo was more than happy to follow that command.

 

 -----oooooOOOOO88888OOOOOooooo-----

 

            Bilbo woke with start and realized he was cold.  He reached out and felt the other side of the bed; empty.  He hated waking up in the middle of the night, disoriented and unsure.  He had been dreaming but for the life of him, he could not remember what he was dreaming of.  However, he was sure of one thing, it was not the dream the woke him, nor was it just the cold next to him.  it was something else.  Had he heard something?  As if in response he heard a barely concealed sniffle.

            “Thorin?”  The room was pitch black.

            “I’m here.”  Thorin’s voice came out of the darkness nearby.  It sounded stuffy and heavy. 

            _Is he crying?!_   Bilbo rolled over to the side table and instinctively found the matches and lit the candle.  He saw Thorin sitting on the stone bench at the foot of the bed and moved down the bed quickly, to kneel next to him.  Thorin had his elbows on his knees, his hands clutched tightly together, but he didn’t look at Bilbo.

            “What’s the matter?”  Bilbo was concerned.  “What’s wrong?”

            Thorin just sat there; his breath was stilted and he continued to sniff.  Bilbo reached out and placed one hand on Thorin’s, while rubbing slow circles on Thorin’s back with his other hand, trying to calm him.  Thorin continued to avoid looking at Bilbo.

            “Talk to me, Thorin.  Please.”

            Thorin moved his hands apart and caught Bilbo’s between them.  “I just – couldn’t sleep.”

            “Just could’t sleep,” Bilbo repeated.  “Couldn’t sleep because of a bad dream, more like?”

            Thorin took several seconds before nodding and sniffed back more tears.  Whatever it was had shaken the dwarf badly and Bilbo was almost heartbroken to see it.

            “Talk. To. Me.”  Bilbo was not above pleading.

            Thorin took a deep breath and let it out forcefully.  Finally he turned to Bilbo who could see, even in the dim light of the candle, that Thorin’s eyes were very red and puffy.  When he spoke, his voice was thick.

            “We were on the gate balcony – and I – I was holding you over the parapet.”

            _Oh no_ , Bilbo thought, _after all that talk today._  

            Thorin continued.  “I was screaming at you and cursing you – I was calling you a traitor and a liar – and I – I even called you a whore - said you only slept with me to get the stone – and you – you were crying and pleading for me to stop – and you – you were so scared – and I didn’t care – I wanted to hurt you – I was taking _pleasure_ in hurting you!”  Thorin tried to choke back his tears but they came anyway.  “And then, I, uhm – told you that I would be better off without you and – I wished you were dead and I just let go!”  Thorin started sobbing.  “I was horrified – I tried to grab you back but you were already out of reach!  And I watched you fall and smash on the walkway and there was blood everywhere!  Your blood!”   Thorin dissolved into tears and sobs as he grabbed Bilbo in a desperate hold and buried his head in the Hobbit’s shoulder. 

            Bilbo cradled Thorin’s head, as the dwarf’s words came pouring out.

            “I raced down to the gate but you were dead by the time I got there and your eyes were already white and lifeless and I had your blood all over my hands and then your corpse began to speak and you called me a murderer and a coward and you said I was a worthless king and unfit to rule and that I didn’t deserve you because I had failed you!”

            In the year since the battle, Bilbo had dreamed a few times about that fateful day on top of the gate balcony.  But in all that time, never had it driven his mind to such macabre and dark visions that were clearly in Thorin’s.   Bilbo had to wonder at the extent of Thorin’s thoughts.

            “Is this the first time you have had nightmares like this?”  Bilbo knew what the answer would be but he had to ask.

            Thorin sniffed and took a few breaths before answering.  “No.”

            “How often have you had them?”

            “About twice a week.  Sometimes three.”

            Bilbo was stunned.  “Two or three times – _for how long?”_

            Thorin hesitated before answering.  “A while.” 

            “That’s not a answer, sweetheart.”

            Thorin sat back and looked away.  He resumed his early posture with his elbows on his knees and clutching his hands together in a tight knot.  But he didn’t answer Bilbo.

            Bilbo brushed Thorin’s hair away so that he could see his face.  “Thorin - how long have you been plagued by these dreams?”

            Thorin breathed a heavy sigh.  “Since just after the battle.  While we were still in the healing tents.

            Bilbo was struck numb.  “By the gods -- You’ve had them for a year and never told me?  _Why_ didn’t you tell me?”  Part of him wanted to be angry with Thorin for not telling him sooner, but Bilbo just couldn’t be.  A year of pain and suffering, and Bilbo felt awful that Thorin had endured it all alone.

            “I didn’t want to burden you with it.”  Thorin said, still not meeting Bilbo’s gaze.  “I figured they would go away.  Eventually.”

            “But they haven't - have they?”

            “No.  And they - uhm - have actually gotten worse.”

            Bilbo moved off the bed and knelt in front of Thorin.  He pulled Thorin’s hands apart and held them in his own small hands and he realized that Thorin’s were shaking.

            “Thorin, you were sick.  I was desperate – we both made mistakes!  But we never stopped loving each other and we have to hold on to that.”

            “I almost killed you!”

            “But you didn't!  You wouldn’t - you couldn't!”

            “You don’t know –“

            “Yes I do, Thorin.  I knew that then.  You would never have taken my life.”

            “You don’t know that!”

            “Yes I do!  You were accusing me of betrayal and being a liar but I knew you weren’t just talking about the stone.  You were talking about you and your love for me.   I saw it in your eyes, you were feeling all that from your heart, not your greed.”

            “But you were so scared!”  Thorin was barely consolable.  “I made you fear me! You were pleading with me to stop and I didn’t!”

            “I did plead with you to stop but I wasn’t scared for me, for my life – I was scared for you!  I was scared that you were losing yourself completely and I was desperate to reach you!”

            Bilbo felt his own guilt writhing in him and he knew that he was not reaching Thorin.

            “Earlier you said there was a difference between fact and truth.  Well, I know now what you mean.  The facts are you were ill, I stole the stone, your sickness took you to the edge of sanity, and we both turned away from each other.

            “But the truth is this, even though you were sick, you still loved me and I knew it – I saw it in your eyes.  I stole the stone and gave it to your sworn enemies and yet you loved me too much to take my life.  And even when you and I turned away, we both loved each other so much that the first chance we had to be together again, the first thing we did was ask the other for forgiveness!

            “Thorin, my love, you said it yourself – it is what is between us, between our hearts, that is important!  It is what we feel that ultimately conquered your sickness, tempered my betrayal and righted the terrible moment where we almost lost each other.  As long as we have that, as long as we hold on to what is in our hearts and what we share, then nothing can come between us. 

            “I love you more each day, Thorin.  I have never stopped loving you; ever.  And that is both _a_ _fact_ and _the truth_.”

            Thorin pulled Bilbo into a bear hug and very slowly his shaking disappeared.  Then he was kissing Bilbo hard on the mouth.  There was nothing but heat and they surrendered to it.  Their lovemaking was all consuming and full of need and desire; lustful.  Thorin stroked Bilbo everywhere his hands could reach and Bilbo was excited and overwhelmed.  They were in sync and no words were needed to urge the other.  They let the rising passion instruct their bodies and it didn’t take long for each to take the other over the edge of passion’s climax.

            In the afterglow, Thorin held Bilbo close, resting his head on his lover’s smooth chest.  Bilbo stroked Thorin’s hair and soon he could hear the low rumble of Thorin snoring against him.  Bilbo loved that sound; it spoke of comfort and security and it was as musical to him as any instrument.

            _The truth is what is between us; between our hearts_.  Bilbo remembered Thorin’s words and smiled.  His king was very wise indeed.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Distance to Dale**  
>  There is no set distance stated in The Hobbit except that it was close to Erebor, in a valley, situated in a "U" shaped bend of the River Running.
> 
> However, in the movie "The Unexpected Journey", the city appears on a rise and is much closer.
> 
> In my story, the city is about 2000 meters away or just under a mile and a half away.


	4. Birthday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bilbo has a birthday and there are more surprises than expected.

* * *

 

 

 

**_09/22/2946_ **

            When Smaug was defeated, it did not surprise anyone that the land surrounding the Lonely Mountain took years to fully return to life. The pastures alone took three years to reach levels even close to what they were before. The towns of Dale and Lake Town recovered a bit faster, but still it took the combined effort of Men and Dwarrow. As trade and commerce began and as the pace quickened, so did the relations between Erebor and its neighbors.

            What did surprise many was the Mountain itself. It seemed the Lonely Mountain was simply waiting for the darkness and evil of the dragon to lift and once it was free from its oppression, it recovered with a vengeance. Shrubs and grasses sprang up within months and by the spring, just six months later, saplings could be seen dotting the mountain at lower levels. It was as if the Mountain was proclaiming the joyous news and welcoming back inhabitants, both within and beside.

            Even Thorin was amazed and had not expected so fast a healing, but he was far from complaining. Occasionally he would scout out and assess the Mountain, looking for any weakness and making sure of defenses– especially after the Battle of the Five Armies; he didn’t want to ever see so much as a single Orc pack sneak up on the Mountain again.

            It was during one of the scouting trips that he discovered The Alcove.  Two tall fingers of rock at the mountain’s base extended out and curved back in, enclosing about an acre of land. A thin ribbon of a waterfall fell there and formed a shallow pool before forming a small creek which flowed out of the niche and towards the river. Grasses and flowers grew in abundance, thanks to the sheltering walls and there was even a single sapling that would eventually grow to cover almost the entire alcove. Thorin was taken by the gentle beauty of the little nook and had surprised Bilbo with it the next time they went out. In fact, it became Bilbo’s favorite place and he and Thorin would sometimes ride out together to visit it and have a quiet moment.

            So on Bilbo’s fifty-six birthday, his fifth in Erebor, Thorin had both their schedules cleared so they could spend the day together without interruptions. A picnic in The Alcove was just the thing. The sound of the waterfall, the smell of the wildflowers -- Thorin could understand why Hobbits enjoyed the beauty of nature. The only other people nearby were the small group of guards that had accompanied them, but they were stationed outside The Alcove so that the royal pair would have privacy.

            Not long after arriving Bilbo found himself cross-legged on the ground with Thorin resting his head in his lap, eyes closed. Bilbo ran a hand through Thorin’s hair as he looked over the gently rippling water of the pool; he was reminded of another time when Thorin and he were alone near a pool of water and a realization.

 

\-----oooooOOOOO88888OOOOOooooo-----

 

**_Five years before_ **

 

_The climb down from the top of The Carrock was difficult. Thorin was on his feet but the going was slow. By the time they had reached the bottom, it was late afternoon and since there was a small river nearby, it was decided they should make camp and rest. They could all bathe and get a decent sleep and then be off first thing in the morning._

_Bilbo was the least tired of them all. Yes, he had fallen into the heart of the mountain and riddled with that insane creature, but he had not had to run to escape from goblins and then also battle Orcs. As such, he insisted that he stay behind and set up camp while the others partook of the river. Truth be told, however, he was glad to do it because this meant he would have some privacy when bathing himself. It was not that he was ashamed or even shy, but the idea of fourteen males all bathing together in close quarters was a bit much for him to take. No, he would set up camp, bathe and when he returned, supper would be ready and all would be fine._

_Gandalf stayed with him and helped here and there, but Bilbo had insisted on doing most of it himself. This was as much a courtesy to the wizard as it was a stalling tactic for Bilbo. But then Gandalf starting talking about what had happened and asking very pointed questions!_

_“That was a very brave thing you did, Bilbo,” Gandalf said, sitting on a large boulder at one side of their camp._

_“I don't -- think it was all that much, honestly,” Bilbo asked, uncomfortable._

_“You ran at that Orc like a man possessed. You saved Thorin’s life.”_

_“Oh – well, someone had to do it. I mean, I was just the closest.”_

_“Really? Are you sure you were the closest?”_

_Now that Bilbo thought about it, he couldn’t say. “Well, I – I think I was the closest.” He had just stood up, unsheathed his sword, took a deep breath and run. However, his ears were getting warm and he started to feel embarrassed. “What difference does it make? Thorin needed me.”_

_Gandalf raised an eyebrow._

_“I mean --- not me, in particular, but – but someone needed to go and I was – it was me.” Bilbo’s ears were getting hotter and his face flushed as well._

_Gandalf just looked at him expressionlessly for a moment or two – or ten – before relieving Bilbo of the silence. “As you say, someone had to do it and I still believe you were very brave to do it. Foolish perhaps, but brave nonetheless.”_

_“Foolish?” Bilbo felt a sting to his pride for a moment._

_“I mean no disrespect, nor do I mean to belittle your act,” Gandalf said, a small smile playing on his lips. “It’s just that you haven’t even trained with your blade, and yet you went headlong into a band of Orcs, killed one of them and then stood in front of Thorin to shield him. One might call that foolish.”_

_“Yes, well – I can see where one might get that impression.” Bilbo avoided Gandalf’s gaze._

_“It does make one wonder as to the things that drive someone to be so foolish,” Gandalf said quietly._

_At that, Bilbo turned slowly and stared wide-eyed at the wizard, who had a glint in his eye that made Bilbo’s skin prickle all over. Bilbo had the most extraordinary feeling that Gandalf could see through him._

_Suddenly there was laughter and movement, and Bilbo turned around to see the company heading back. He thanked Eru for the distraction. The camp was set up and everything was ready for supper to be started; now would be a very good time to take his leave and bathe. He headed to the river without a word to Gandalf._

_There was a small rocky inlet surrounded by trees. It was the perfect spot for privacy and bathing. Bilbo quickly stripped off his clothes, and walked into the water. It was cool but not cold and it seemed to ease every ache and pain. It wasn’t deep enough to be unsafe but was perfect for soaking. Bilbo was so relaxed and the water so blissful that he didn’t realize he wasn’t alone._

_He heard a small splash behind him and as he turned, Bilbo saw Thorin emerge from the water, obviously having gone completely under. He stared as Thorin stood up, his back to Bilbo. Thorin’s hair hung heavy with water halfway down his back, the water making the sable color even darker so that the silver streaks stood out bold in the black. It was the man’s back that caught Bilbo’s attention; broad and stout; although Thorin was still quite trim for a dwarf. Bilbo could see the large, horseshoe-shaped bruise on Thorin’s left side made by Azog’s Warg. Dark hair dusted the sides of his back, and his shoulders and arms were quite hairy, all in the same sable colored hair as his head.   Bilbo was struck by the sheer masculinity of the dwarf and suddenly, for the first time in his life, felt self-conscious of his very smooth chest and downy covered arms. Thorin had a thick pelt of hair on his muscular chest and stomach and Bilbo was reminded of a bear._

_As the image of Thorin’s chest played in his mind, Bilbo suddenly realized that Thorin had not just turned and was staring at him, but had said something as well!_

_“I’m sorry,” Bilbo said, wide-eyed. “What did you say?”_

_Thorin had an amused look on his face. “I said, ‘Hello.’”_

_“Oh – hello.” Bilbo’s ears turned bright red._

_“Twice.” Thorin said with a raised eyebrow._

_“Sorry. I was – uhm – I was – thinking of something else.”_

_“Clearly.” Thorin now smiled outright._

_“I guess, I should give you your privacy – I should go.” Bilbo made to leave._

_“Please, stay,”_

_“All right.” Bilbo turned back but found it hard to look at Thorin directly. The water came up to just below Bilbo’s armpits and he was grateful it was high enough to hide the warmth he was feeling below the surface. It occurred to him that this was the first time he had been alone with Thorin, ever._

_“I was told that you not only saved me from that Orc,” Thorin said as he slowly walked over to Bilbo, “but that you stood between me and Azog. You actually raised your sword to protect me as I lay unaware.”Bilbo watched as a small smile formed on Thorin's lips and the Dwarf said, softly, "Thank you."_

_Hearing echoes of his conversation with Gandalf in his head, Bilbo said “I had no choice, really.”_

_“On the contrary. You could have chosen to stay put and not come to assist me at all. You could have let Azog have me and save yourself. After I’d treated you so poorly, you still choose to shield me.” Thorin’s voice had gone to almost a whisper and there was no malice or accusation in his voice. “Why, Bilbo?”_

_Bilbo wasn’t sure what to say, but he had the strangest feeling that he wasn’t being asked for just any answer but for a specific one. He wanted to say anyone would have done it or that it was only the right thing to do, but neither answer was quite true. He finally had to admit to himself the truth, but he couldn’t find the words. In fact, Bilbo could not find any words at the moment. He began to shiver, but not from the cold; there was only an arm's length between them now, and he was overwhelmed by Thorin’s presence._

_Thorin reached out and brushed the curled bangs off Bilbo’s forehead. “One could say that what you did was very foolish.” Thorin let his hand cup Bilbo’s face; his thumb gently rubbed the hobbit’s cheek._

_Bilbo leaned into Thorin’s hand; he wanted this, needed it. “I can see where one might get that impression.”_

_“But then, one would have to wonder what would drive you to be so foolish,” Thorin whispered, leaning down so that his face was only a few inches from Bilbo’s._

_“I would gladly do it all again,” Bilbo whispered._

_Thorin didn’t say a word, he just smiled and moved his hand to the nape of Bilbo’s neck and drew the Hobbit into a kiss. Bilbo closed his eyes and moaned as he wrapped his arms gently around Thorin, drawing the Dwarf in closer. Thorin responded in kind and wrapped his arms around Bilbo, resting one hand over the small of Bilbo’s back and the other between his shoulders so that there was no escape for the Hobbit; not that Bilbo had any intention of going anywhere._

_For several long minutes that seemed an eternity – Bilbo couldn’t recall later – there was nothing else in the world, there was only Thorin. As the kiss deepened, there was more than just passion or lust, there was need and want, desire and tenderness. Thorin seemed to touch his very soul and Bilbo finally knew he had found a part of himself that he hadn’t even known was missing._

 

\-----oooooOOOOO88888OOOOOooooo-----

  

**_09/22/2946_ **

 

            Bilbo realized that his mind had drifted and that Thorin was not only staring up at him but had said something.

            “I’m sorry,” Bilbo said, a bit flustered. “Did you say something?”

            “Just your name,” Thorin said, a bit amused, “trying to get your attention. What in the world were you thinking about so intently?”

            Bilbo smiled and looked away. “About the first time you kissed me.”

            Thorin moved and knelt, cupping Bilbo’s face with his strong hands and drew him into a kiss that, even after all these years, still sent shivers down Bilbo’s spine. Once again, the world dissolved and there was only Thorin, and Bilbo’s heart and soul sang like two birds in harmony. Time was meaningless, and reaching out, Bilbo wrapped his arms as far as he could around Thorin’s chest to draw him closer.

            As they pulled back, Thorin gave Bilbo a crooked smile, “Is it still the same after all these years?”

            Bilbo licked his lips, tasting the little of Thorin left behind. “Oh, yes. Very much so.”

            Thorin went to kiss him again when the clang of metal on metal sounded nearby. It was repeated once more and then another.

            “What the hell is going on?” Thorin said, standing up.

 

 -----oooooOOOOO88888OOOOOooooo----- 

 

 

 

 

 

            “You’re nothing more than a royal dog!” Hauk said, swinging his axe at Gimli.

            “Well, you would know more about dogs than I would,” Gimli replied, as his axe met with Hauk’s. “I have seen your mother!”

            “You can kiss my arse!” Hauk shouted back, taking another swing.

            “By the time I’m done beating your arse,” Gimli said, wanting nothing more than to goad Hauk again, “there won’t be enough left for anyone to kiss!”

            The two royal guards continued to swing and parley, while the other four stood back and watched. No one was willing to jump in the middle and run the risk of losing a limb, or worse, but no one could tear their eyes from the fight. This meant that not one of the six guards saw the king approaching with the consort right behind him.

            “WHAT IN THE NAME OF MAHAL IS GOING ON!” Thorin thundered just as the Gimli and Hauk swung hard enough to knock each other to the ground. The sudden silence was deafening and the two guards could only lay on the ground panting as the rest snapped to attention.

            “GET UP!” Thorin yelled, and Gimli and Hauk jumped to attention.

            Thorin began to pace back and forth and Bilbo was well aware that he was trying to calm himself. This gave Bilbo the chance to look at Gimli, who had a look of pure anger. As for Hauk, Bilbo was not so sure; the young guard was relatively new and had just settled in Erebor from the Iron Mountains. However, if pressed, Bilbo would have guessed that Hauk appeared defiant, which didn’t bode well when done in the face of the king.

            “So.” Thorin came to a stop and glared daggers at Gimli and Hauk. “Would anyone care to explain?” The silence continued to stretch and Bilbo had the impression that Gimli’s mind was turning over and over.

            “We were – just practicing, your Majesty,” Gimli said with as much confidence as he could muster, which was a complete lie. No guard on royal duty would ever think of doing anything that distracted from observing and watching for danger – especially when the King or royal family were out of the mountain.

            “Practicing.” Thorin was clearly not buying the idea as well. “You were practicing on guard duty.” There was no other explanation or excuse given and the ringing silence continued on.

            “Perhaps we should call it a day and return,” Bilbo said to Thorin, but he continued to stare at Gimli. What really struck Bilbo odd was that Gimli, who had become his de facto personal guard and escort, seemed to refuse to look at him.

            Thorin leaned down to whisper, “But we only got here an hour ago! It’s not even noon yet and I wanted your birthday to be special for you!”

            Bilbo turned to whisper back, “I know, but I have the feeling it would be best.” He continued to cast glances at Gimli, but still got no response.

            Thorin’s face was turning stormy but he nodded and looked back to the guards.  “Pack it up! We’re heading back!” Thorin barked, and all six guards jumped and began to gather their equipment and load up their ponies. Thorin turned towards The Alcove to gather their personal belongings; Bilbo followed behind, knowing it was only going to get uglier when they arrived back at Erebor.

 

\-----oooooOOOOO88888OOOOOooooo-----

 

            By the time they all arrived back and were all dismounting, Thorin was silently seething. His anger could be felt like heat coming off of him and his first command was to order the six guards to remain where they were and call for Dwalin. It would have been bad enough to deal just with the king or his Captain of the Guards, but to deal with both was not a good sign. Even Bilbo did not leave the area.

            When Dwalin arrived, Thorin took him aside and there was an intense but whispered exchange between them. Dwalin’s face grew darker and darker as the king continued and finally, both stepped back and Dwalin just nodded to the king, then walked to the guards.

            “I want the four not involved with _practicing_.” Dwalin said with a sneer, “to report to their barracks and stay there until I come for them.” The four in question did not bother to answer nor even look at each other but took off for their ordered destination.  
            “As for you two,” Dwalin turned to Gimli and Hauk, “you will follow me and I don’t want to hear a single word from either of you.” Dwalin took three steps then turned abruptly back to Thorin. “By the way, that package you were waiting for arrived while you were out.”

            “Thank you,” Thorin said. He turned to Bilbo, saying, “Come, my love; we need to get changed.” As Dwalin and the two guards disappeared, Thorin led the way upstairs.

            Bilbo followed and did not ask where they were going or what was going to happen. He was familiar enough with Thorin’s moods to know that this was not the time, place or occasion to do anything more than follow the flow of commands. Curious as Bilbo was normally, he knew that all would be made clear in time.

 

 -----oooooOOOOO88888OOOOOooooo----

 

 

 

 

 

            Dwalin led Gimli and Hauk up to two large metal doors of a room that Gimli knew well; it was the private throne room. This was not the open area where Thror had placed the large golden throne and Arkenstone to impress visiting kings and princes. This was the room used by the royals for everything from parties to more intimate meetings.  Thorin used this room to overwhelm and intimidate, as his presence could easily fill the space. Dwalin ordered the two guards to stay at attention and not move as he entered the private throne room and shut the door. The two guards stood at attention for what seemed like an hour to Gimli before the doors opened and Dwalin ordered them inside.

            The room was in polished black granite. The walls were of large rectangular blocks; each row slightly protruded from the one below so that it gave the impression the entire place was closing in on itself from the top. Five large braziers were placed on each side wall, but only the ones next to the throne were lit, making the throne – or the king if he were standing – cast long shadows that reached all the way to the doors. There was a door to either side of the throne; one was a private chamber for the King to enter and the other led to only the King knew where. Thorin sat on the black granite throne and Bilbo stood quietly to Thorin’s right; both dressed entirely in black. Thorin’s tunic had gold thread in a geometric Dwarrow design along the bottom and down the center, while Bilbo’s had a gold and silver thread design that looked like ivy vines running along the bottom of his tunic. Both were wearing their crowns. Gimli had only ever seen them wear these outfits once before and that was at last year's celebration of the victory over the Orcs and Wargs and both King Bard and Thranduil and their entire royal entourages had been in attendance. If Gimli thought he was overwhelmed before, he had sadly underestimated the situation; he could feel the sweat rolling down his back.

            Dwalin led them to within fifteen feet of the throne and then ordered them to stop as he went to stand on Thorin’s left. The King looked from Gimli to Hauk and back with a smoldering anger in his eyes. The silence was resounding as it stretched on before finally Thorin spoke.

            “I don’t really believe I need to tell you why you are here,” Thorin said in a calm but barely controlled voice. “I am going to ask you now, again, for an explanation of your earlier display of _practicing_.” Thorin spit out the last word like a curse.

            There was no answer from either young dwarf and the silence expanded like a storm cloud. However, Gimli chanced a look in Bilbo’s direction; it was almost imperceptible, between blinks, and Bilbo wasn’t even sure he saw it, but it was not lost on Thorin.

            “DO NOT LOOK TO THE CONSORT TO OFFER YOU RESCUE, GIMLI, SON OF GLOIN!” Thorin’s voice shook the room and both Gimli and Bilbo were startled by the intensity. Bilbo almost reached out a hand to place on Thorin’s arm to calm him, but thought better of it and dropped it back to his side. Bilbo had to agree with Thorin; he could offer no rescue or help to his favorite guard.

            Thorin took more deep breaths and waited, and still there was no answer; he was about to lose all patience. However, he noticed that, once again, Gimli cast a quick glance in Bilbo’s direction and that this time, it was not as hidden as before. He surmised that Bilbo’s presence might well be the reason for the guard’s ongoing silence.

            “Dwalin,” Thorin said, keeping his eyes locked with Gimli’s, “would you take Master Hauk from the room?” Bilbo knew this code –Dwalin was to question Hauk alone, while Thorin dealt with Gimli.

            Dwalin did not answer the question, and in fact a response was not expected. He simply walked over, grabbed the nape of Hauk’s neck in a vise-like grip and steered him out of the room as one would a misbehaving dwarf-ling.

            “Bilbo, would you leave us, please.” Thorin said.

            “Thorin–,” Bilbo started but was cut short.

            “I don’t want to make that a command,” Thorin whispered, turning his head in Bilbo’s direction but avoiding eye contact so as not to show his increasing anger at the situation.

            Bilbo knew better than to argue or even respond. He simply nodded and left the room. As the door closed, Thorin stood and slowly closed the distance between himself and Gimli, glaring for a few moments at the young dwarf before speaking.

            “Now, I will ask you for the last time.” Thorin whispered his voice calm but dangerously intimate. “What happened out by The Alcove? And I warn you, in the name of all you hold dear, do not lie to me.”

            Sweat broke out on Gimli’s forehead and he swallowed hard before he inhaled and began to speak.

 

 -----oooooOOOOO88888OOOOOooooo-----

 

 

 

 

 

            As the time ticked by, Bilbo began to worry. After about thirty minutes, Bilbo thought he heard a door open and close in the throne room – which may have been Dwalin coming back in – but he heard no other sounds. He began to alternate from sitting to pacing every five minutes. Finally, the door to the side room opened and Thorin swept out. He gave Bilbo a dark look but said nothing as he continued walking. Bilbo jumped up and followed him, not daring to ask a question, but knew that Thorin was not keeping him in the dark; simply looking for privacy. And true to his suspicions, Thorin led them to their private chambers and shut the door.

            Bilbo stood still and watched Thorin pace for a few minutes before sitting down. Bilbo knew he was unhappy in the extreme but he could see that the anger was gone; replaced by something else, something unsettling if he knew Thorin.

            Bilbo pulled over the stool and sat next to Thorin’s chair. Finally the king took one of Bilbo’s hands in his and turned to look at him.

            “It seems,” Thorin said slowly, and clearly attempting to keep calm, “that young Master Hauk made remarks concerning his king’s choice of consort as well as the consort’s motives for entering the relationship.” Bilbo was stunned as Thorin continued.  “Apparently, Hauk thought you were only after riches and clearly I was foolish to fall for your lascivious charms, to use Gimli’s choice of words. According to him, the actual accusation was not so pleasant. Your faithful escort did not take Hauk’s comments well and decided to defend your honor.” Thorin stood and began to pace again.

            Bilbo, while honored at Gimli’s response, was not overly surprised at the revelations. “Well, the Iron Hills Dwarrow have always viewed me unfavorably because I wasn’t a dwarf. In fact, I am sure there are few of the Erebor populace who agree with them.”

            “It is no one’s business who I choose as my spouse and consort! And to insinuate that you are my – that you are – that you only love me for riches is disgusting and insulting to your honor!”

            “Thorin, my love, you can’t rule someone’s opinion and you know it. I hope you haven’t punished him for that?”

            “No,” Thorin said, looking unsettled again, “I haven’t. Sadly you are correct; I cannot discipline him for his views. But I can, _and I have_ , disciplined him for derelict of duty! No guard on royal duty should do anything that distracts from observation for danger or that inhibits responding to a threat!

            “Unfortunately,” Thorin said, “I could not discipline Hauk, without also disciplining Gimli for that same. They have been stripped of rank and sent to work in the kitchens for as long as I deem necessary.”

            “I am sure Gimli understands,” Bilbo said.

            Thorin nodded, “I thought about giving him just a warning because, according to Dwalin, the other four guards said that Hauk was the first one to raise his weapon and attack Gimli. But to do so would give the impression that Hauk’s statements were true or at least held valid and that would only incite the Iron Hills Dwarrow further.”

            “Will Gimli be able to come back to me when his punishment is over?" Bilbo trusted Gimli with his life and had grown as fond of the Dwarf as if he were his own son.

            “Dwalin will have the final say about that,” Thorin said with a sigh. “When their punishment ends, they will be brought before Dwalin and the leaders of all platoons and judged for their actions.  I can guarantee you that Hauk will be removed from the royal guards and assigned back to the regular enlisted - he may even be forced to return to the Iron Hills.  Gimli, on the other hand, has an unblemished record for the last four years, but I cannot say if that will be any help or not.  If I say anything, it might look like I am, again, giving him special treatment.”

            Bilbo mulled it over and said, “Would it help if I made it known that I would be happy to have him back?”

            Thorin huffed out a laugh.  “Are you joking?  You would merely have to ask, and Dwalin would probably kiss an Elf! But I don’t believe it would help to the situation,” Thorin replied. “Again, it might look bad in the eyes of the Iron Hills Dwarrow. It would be best to let Dwalin make the decision.”

            “I wasn’t thinking of asking Dwalin – directly.” Bilbo said with a small smile.

            "You weren't?”

            “I often have lunch with Ori,” Bilbo said, giving Thorin an innocent look, “and I am sure that when he sees how upset and worried I am that Gimli may not come back to me – he may well comment on it to Dwalin, and --,”

            Thorin was impressed. “You sneaky little conniver!  Are all Hobbits this devious?”

            “I have no idea what you are talking about.” Bilbo said sweetly and Thorin thought of a spider spinning its web. He was once again reminded that Bilbo was far more than he seemed.  As far as he was concerned, anyone questioning Bilbo’s worthiness to be consort had better beware!

            "Besides," Bilbo said, with a cunning smirk, "you should be careful what you say.  My husband is King and he could have your tongue for your insolent comments."

           Thorin just smiled.  "You are correct, my love."  Bilbo graced him with a warm kiss that sent a zing to parts best left unsaid at that moment.

            Bilbo stood up and reached for Thorin’s hand. “Come, my love. Let us change for my party! I cannot _wait_ for you to see the gifts I have gotten for everyone!” Bilbo looked excited but Thorin just shook his head.

            “You know, I will never get used to the idea of you giving gifts on your birthday! It just seems unnatural.”

            “Look at it this way,” Bilbo said, sounding like he was talking to a young Hobbit, “It’s my special day, so I want everyone to be as happy as I am.”

            “What have you – but I still think it’s better to receive than give.”

            “Spoken like a true Dwarf, my love.” Bilbo laughed while placing a kiss on Thorin’s cheek.

            “Well, I still have a surprise for you.” Thorin said, watching as Bilbo’s jaw dropped.

            “You weren’t supposed to do that!”

            “Too late. Already done.”

            “Well, as a good Hobbit, I will accept the gift graciously.”

            “I hope so! Can’t send it back.”

            “What? What is it? Send it back where?” Bilbo stammered but Thorin just shook his head.

            “Sorry. It’s a surprise.” Thorin hummed to himself while Bilbo continued to beg for answers. As Mahal was his witness, Thorin loved to put one over on Bilbo!

 

 -----oooooOOOOO88888OOOOOooooo-----

 

            By the time Bilbo and Thorin had changed for the birthday party, the private throne room had been converted to a private dining hall. All the braziers were lit and the room had a warm golden glow. Two large tables had been brought in and placed together and a separate round table was set to one side where a mountain of presents in various sizes was stacked for the guests.

            The entire company, plus Dis, had been invited as well as their spouses and mates. Dis, like Thorin, just shook her head at the idea of getting a gift rather than giving one. Of course, she had gone ahead and brought a gift for Bilbo anyway, knowing full well Bilbo was too polite to refuse it. She loved doing things her way – especially when it came to Thorin and Bilbo, whom she loved almost as much as her sons.

            When Thorin and Bilbo entered the room, everyone was standing in a large group and there was a collective cheer of “Happy Birthday.” Bilbo blushed and said thank you while Thorin asked for quiet.

            “I told Bilbo I had a surprise for him,” Thorin announced, and there were smiles and a few giggles around, “and knowing how fidgety he gets –“

            “I do not get fidgety!” Bilbo said, with mock indignation which resulted in another round of laughter.

            “Knowing how – excited he gets,” Thorin continued, “I don’t think we should wait any longer. Bilbo –“ Thorin stepped behind Bilbo and covered his eyes. “Okay everyone. One, Two, THREE!”

            Thorin removed his hands and Bilbo blinked his eyes to adjust. At first he just registered that everyone had stepped sideways into two groups and then he saw the reason.

            “DROGO!” Bilbo was overjoyed to see his favorite cousin standing there with his wife. “AND PRIMULA!” He rushed forward to give them hugs and kissed each one on the cheeks.

            “When did you get here?!” Bilbo was just amazed.

            “Just this morning,” Drogo said. “We had the most fantastic journey!”

            “How did you pull this off?” Bilbo asked, turning to Thorin.

            “I sent a raven to your cousin about four months ago,” Thorin said, with a twinkle in his eye, “with a letter asking if it was possible. When they wrote back saying yes, I wrote to Lord Elrond and asked if he could arrange an Elven escort to Rivendell and I, in turn, would send a dwarf escort to Rivendell to fetch them here.”

            “I can’t believe it!” Bilbo was amazed. Not only did Thorin pull the most unexpected and yet most welcomed surprise, but kept it secret for months. “And you actually asked an Elf for assistance.”

            Thorin looked a little pained at that, but said, “I know how much you like and respect Elrond, and he in turn has much respect for you, and seeing even I have to admit he has been nothing but good towards either of us, I did not hesitate to ask for his assistance. And I must add, that he was not only happy to do it, but he complimented me on the whole endeavor and told me to extend his best wishes to you.”

            “Remind me to send a letter thanking him.” Bilbo said, as he went up to Thorin, kissed him, and whispered in his ear, “and I will show you my deepest gratitude later tonight.” Thorin was more than pleased.

            The day’s events played in Bilbo’s mind, and he looked from Thorin to his cousins, “Oh my goodness! Have you even met each other yet?” Bilbo realized that Thorin had not been out of his sight all day.

            “Thorin, may I present my cousin and his wife, Drogo and Primula Baggins.  Drogo and Prim, this is my husband, his majesty, King Thorin II of Erebor, King Under the Mountain."*

            “Your Majesty,” Primula said, as she gave a small curtsy and Drogo bowed, “It’s an honor to meet you in person at last.”

            “Please,” Thorin said, shaking Drogo's hand and kissing Primula on the back of hers, “in private, call me Thorin.”

            “Thank you and,” Drogo said, “we want to thank you so much for the gracious welcome we have received and we would like to introduce our other cousin.” Drogo turned, and from the back, totally unnoticed by Bilbo, stepped another Hobbit. “Opal Took.”

            If Bilbo hadn’t been told she was a Hobbit, he might have taken Opal for a Dwarf. She was tall; easily over four foot and her feet were smaller than the average Hobbit. Also, the hair on her feet and ankles was not the thick hair that most Hobbits possessed, but it was short and very downy looking. Her hair wasn’t curly like her cousins, only slightly wavy and raven in color. She even had all the hair on above her ears pulled back into a ponytail with the rest of it free. Bilbo was reminded of Kili when he looked at her. However, she had the sweetest face and expression and seemed quite shy when she was brought forth to meet Thorin.

            “How do you do, your Majesty?” Opal’s beautiful eyes shined brightly and they were the color of robin’s eggs.

            “I am well, Miss Took, and please, call me Thorin.” Thorin bowed and kissed the back of Opal’s hand. He turned and looked at Bilbo and his cousins, “If you will excuse me a minute, I forgot something. I will be right back.” With that he exited the room and Bilbo decided let his cousins mingle with the rest.

            Everyone had gotten acquainted with Bilbo’s cousins before he arrived. He knew instinctively that Drogo and Primula were a bit overwhelmed by Erebor and the Dwarrow but he was sure that they would eventually feel more at ease. Hobbits adjust quickly and Bilbo was thrilled that Thorin had brought them from the Shire. But as everyone milled around, Bilbo was curious as to Opal’s presence. He finally got Primula alone just as Thorin came back into the room and walked up behind Bilbo, handing him a glass of Dale wine.

            “Prim.”  Bilbo pulled his cousin’s wife aside. “What is the story with Opal?”

            “I hope it’s all right that we brought her,” Primula seemed a bit nervous. “It was a last minute decision and we just couldn’t leave her alone at home.”

            “No, of course not,” Bilbo said and Thorin nodded agreement which put Primula at ease. “It’s just that, I have never met her before.”

            “Well,” Primula started, as Drogo came up behind her. “Opal was close to my little sister, so I have known her for years. Her father died recently in a terrible accident – trampled by a horse when he went to Bree on business – and her mother has been so grief-stricken that she simply couldn’t function and went to stay with her sister.  Apparently, this aunt and Opal do not get along – the woman is impossibly judgmental and snobbish, almost making Lobelia look like a saint, if you can imagine – so, Opal came to stay with us about five months ago.

            “And as you can see, she is a bit – tall and most of the men will have nothing to do with her. No one has made any move to court her at all!”

            “How old is she?” Bilbo could not guess but Opal didn’t seem that old to worry about not being courted.

            “She will be thirty-three next year!” Primula said with a knowing look. Thirty-three was the coming of age for Hobbits and it was unusual for a female Hobbit to not at least be engaged at this age, if not already married.

            “She seems just as sweet as she could be,” Bilbo said, feeling very badly for Opal who was clearly a charming young lady and noticed that she was very comfortable talking with Fili and Kili.

            “Oh, she is a sweetheart!” Drogo said. “That’s why we didn’t want to leave her alone at home while we came here to visit.”

            “I have no objections,” Thorin said. “In fact, I believe I can speak for Bilbo, in that we would have been upset to find out about her and you _hadn’t_ brought her.” Bilbo smiled up at Thorin, feeling very pleased.

            “Thank you, Thorin,” Primula responded, “we hoped no one would mind and, frankly, figured that she might feel at home here.”

            “Why do you say that?” Bilbo asked, confused.

            “Well, there have always been rumors of Dwarf blood on the Took side of the family.” Drogo said, as if it was common knowledge even in Erebor. But Bilbo almost fell over.

            “I never heard that!” Bilbo was so shocked, he was almost speechless.

            "Truly?"  Thorin seemed almost as shocked as his husband.

            “Oh yes!” Drogo said. “Bilbo’s father was adamant that there was no truth in the matter – he never tolerated anything that might ‘taint’ the reputation of Belladonna. Not that there is anything wrong with being of Dwarf blood!" Drogo added quickly.  "But there had been rumors of Dwarf blood going all the way back and before Bandobras "Bullroarer" Took. That’s Bilbo’s Great-Grand-Uncle.

            “Make no mistake, this is not just random gossip. Bandobras was so large he could ride a real horse! In fact, he is the tallest Hobbit on record – four feet and five inches!  Now look at Opal. Both her parents were Tooks – fifth cousins, thrice removed – and she stands at four feet, three inches. Then you couple that with her feet and her hair – well, it’s not a wonder that people have revived the old suspicions of Dwarf Blood.  And Bilbo’s going off like he did only added fuel to the fire.”

            “Me? How do I fit in all this?” Bilbo was taken aback.

            “When you ran off on your adventure with dwarfs and that wizard, everyone just threw their hands up and said, _‘That’s the Took side for you’_ and chalked it up to Dwarf Blood in the Family.”

            Bilbo was amazed and wasn’t sure to believe it or not. He had never heard the rumors but couldn’t deny that his father was very protective of his mother and could easily see him refusing to even discuss the idea. And now that he thought about it, he could understand why the rumors were attributed to his great-great-uncle. In the end, Bilbo decided that it just didn’t matter and as far as he was concerned, Opal was a welcomed member of the family regardless.

            The call for dinner came and they all sat down to eat and enjoy themselves. There was much talk and Drogo and Primula told the story of the trip and how wonderful everything was.

           Bilbo was so pleased that all the company and Dis had welcomed the Hobbits with open arms. Drogo and Primula seemed to be having a wonderful time and it was just about halfway through the main course that Bilbo noticed that Fili was taking a very keen interest in Opal and had actually ignored his brother through most of the meal. Bilbo wasn’t sure what to make of it but decided that he wasn’t going to read into it anymore than Fili being kind to a young girl.  Kili did look a little put out and was quieter than normal but he seemed to be giving his brother distance and Bilbo made a mental note to give Kili some extra attention before the evening was out.

            Finally the meal was over and as the desserts were brought out, Bilbo was excited to start handing out the gifts! He stood up and tapped the side of his glass to get party’s attention.

            “Everyone! I thank you all for coming and helping me celebrate my fifty-sixth birthday!” There were cheers all around and Bofur raised his glass and said that Bilbo didn’t look a day over sixty, to the amusement of all.

            As the laughter died down, Bilbo continued. “As is traditional, I want to hand out gifts to you all as a way to celebrate my life. A life that is even more blessed than I could ever imagine, thanks to the one that makes it complete – Thorin. I love you.” Thorin smiled in return and everyone raised their glass in the air and cheered “Happy birthday!”

            Bilbo turned to the huge pile of gifts and suddenly froze. It hit him like lightning out the clear sky; he hadn’t known his cousins were coming and there wasn’t anything there for them. He started to panic a bit and his head was spinning as to what to do, when Thorin appeared at his side.

            “Is there a problem, my love?” Thorin whispered in Bilbo’s ear while making it seem like he was looking over the gifts to help pass them out. Thorin knew Bilbo well enough to know when he was troubled, even when Bilbo presented a calm exterior.

            “I don’t have anything for my cousins!”

            Thorin gave him a sly look and reached to the back on the pile, where he took out two gifts that Bilbo had not even seen.  “Drogo and Primula,” Thorin said loudly, “these are yours.” Bilbo was amazed. Once again, Thorin had totally risen to the occasion. Drogo opened his and revealed a beautiful elongated silver and gold box that contained two intricately detailed writing pens, one in gold and the other in silver. Primula’s gift was a delicate gold necklace with small diamond and emerald flowers and a set of matching hair combs. Both Hobbits were stunned into silence for a few minutes before thanking Bilbo and Thorin for the extraordinary gifts.

            “Opal,” Thorin said, reaching into his pocket, “this is for you.” He handed her a small gift and when unwrapped appeared to be just a plain square wooden box. However, when she opened it, she gasped and pulled out a diamond and ruby ring set in gold that fit her finger as if custom made. She was so surprised that she couldn’t seem to form words and Thorin just smiled and said, “You are more than welcome.”

            When Thorin returned to help Bilbo, he looked at him with pride. “There are not words to describe what I am feeling right now.”

            “And you are more than welcome, too.” Thorin kissed Bilbo’s cheek. “Happy birthday, my jewel.”

            But Bilbo had to ask, “How did you know what size ring to give to Opal?”

            Thorin just raised an eyebrow and gave Bilbo his _‘that’s a silly question’_ look. “We Dwarfs are first, and foremost, metal workers, my sweet. I can judge a person’s ring size from across the room.” Bilbo just laughed and shrugged his shoulders.

            The rest of the gifts were given out and everyone seemed very happy. At the end, Dis presented Bilbo with her gift – a gold and silver pin that matched his ivy circlet.

            Finally it was late and Drogo, Primula and Opal were clearly tired after such a long day. As they were bid good-night, Ori stated that it was time for him to get some rest as well and he and Dwalin volunteered to show Bilbo’s cousins back to their rooms. Everyone else took the hint and within a short bit of time were all heading home, leaving Bilbo and Thorin free to return to their chambers.

            Bilbo undressed and readied for bed, and he had to admit, it was one of the best birthdays he had ever had. Even with all the dramatic events in the morning, seeing his cousins and being surprised by Thorin and his generous nature, he was immensely happy. If anyone had told him six years ago, that his life would have taken such incredible and near unbelievable turns, he would have called them insane. But now, his old life was the one thing he could not fathom.

            As Bilbo climbed into bed, Thorin took one of Bilbo’s hands and kissed the back of it, bringing it to his cheek.

            “Did you have a good day?” Thorin asked, giving his love a small smile.

            Bilbo had to compose himself before answering. “I would say thank you for all you have done, but I don’t believe those words do justice to how I am feeling.” Thorin kissed him tenderly on the forehead as Bilbo continued. “To bring my cousins here to see me was – I can’t even begin.”

            “It was the least I could do,” Thorin said, holding Bilbo close and cherishing the moment. “I wanted you to know how much you have given me. You did more than save my life from Azog five years ago. You saved me from an empty life filled with bitterness and anger.

            “I told you before that you were the only treasure I would seek. And yet, all the gold and jewels in Erebor could never buy me what you have blessed me with on a daily basis. It is I who must continue to thank you.”

            Bilbo sat back and gave Thorin a sly smile. “In that case, let me give you something else to thank me for.” He kissed his king on the cheek and then turned and reached for something hidden next to the bed. As he sat back up and turned, he held a small wrapped gift in his hands. He just smiled and held it out for Thorin to take.

            “You weren’t supposed to give me a gift.” Thorin said, looking pointedly at Bilbo but accepted the gift so lovingly given.

            Bilbo nodded and gave Thorin a small wicked smile. “I ignored you.”

            Thorin laughed and opened the gift; two matching braid clasps made of gold and engraved on one side with their initials, T and B, in Khudzul runes and on the other side, the same initials in intertwined Westron script.

            Thorin was touched. “They are beautiful. Thank you.” He replaced his old silver clasps for the new ones.

            Bilbo loved how they looked in the dark sable hair, but when he reached up to pull Thorin over him, he whispered, “Don’t tell me, show me how thankful you are.”

            Thorin had no problem complying and covered Bilbo’s mouth with his own, licking the Hobbit’s tender lips which parted to allow Thorin in. Their rising heat ignited and they were at once one and both lost all sense of time and the world around them.

 

\-----oooooOOOOO88888OOOOOooooo-----

 

            As the next few weeks passed, Bilbo was thrilled to have his cousins there. And apparently, so was the entire kingdom. Whenever they were out and about, Dwarrow they met were nothing but kind and seemed to take delight in showing the Hobbits a warm welcome. Bilbo knew that while many viewed Dwarrow as cold and stoic, he had come to know them well and found them friendly and loyal to the last. Then again, if pressed, he would admit that he might be a little biased, but he wasn’t pressed too often and chose to ignore that bit of information.

            Drogo and Primula were enthralled and both of them, along with Bilbo, noticed that Opal opened up with each passing day, blossoming like a rose. Bilbo also noticed, whenever they were out, Fili seemed to come around the corner and ‘just happen’ to run into them.

            So it was that about three weeks into his cousin’s visit that Bilbo walked into the private throne room and right into the middle of a heated argument between Fili and his mother, Dis. Thorin was standing between the two, looking very much out of place but relieved when Bilbo walked into the room.

            “Bilbo!” Fili said, turning to him immediately. “Tell mother that I have the right to do as I please and not to treat me as a child!”

            “Bilbo,” Dis said almost over Fili, “you must tell my son that he is too young for this madness.”

            Bilbo blinked at the barrage and held up his hands to stop them both. “I have no idea what either of you are talking about.” Bilbo wanted something of an explanation first and looked at Thorin for assistance but he just shook his head and shrugged, apparently not wanting to be any more involved than he already was.

            “Mother doesn’t like Opal.” Fili said with a scowl on his face.

            “Now that is not what I said!” Dis fired back. “I just think you are rushing this! You are too young.”

            “I am eighty-seven years old!” Fili returned a salvo. “You weren’t much older when you married father!”

            “That was different!” Dis shot another round. “We were perfect for each other!”

            “And Opal’s perfect for me!”

            “You are acting childish!”

            “I am not!”

            “You are too!”

            “ENOUGH!” Thorin bellowed, bringing the argument to a fast and complete halt. “If you truly want Bilbo’s opinion, or anyone’s for that matter, why don’t you BOTH shut up and listen!” He sighed in heavy relief for the quiet that descended, and Bilbo walked over to stand next to him.

            “How did all this start up?!” Bilbo whispered as Thorin leaned to kiss him on the cheek.

            “I am _not_ getting in the middle of this.” Thorin whispered back and Bilbo nodded in return.

            Bilbo turned and addressed the other two in the room. “I believe that it is not my place to intervene.” Fili and Dis both started to protest but Bilbo held up his hands to quiet them. “With that in mind, however, I will say that I do also believe that letting nature take its course is best.”

            Fili had a smug smile on his face, but Dis was not so pleased. “Bilbo! He is but a young Dwarf!”

            “A young Dwarf who has already seen battle and worked hard to reclaim his ancestral home and kingdom.” Bilbo replied calmly, but then turned to Fili. “But, be that as it may, I would like to point out that it is much too soon for any form of attachment and I urge Fili to go slowly.” It was now Dis’ turn to wear the smug look while Fili’s jaw dropped.

            “How can you say that?” Fili asked. “You and Uncle Thorin confessed your love for each other within a few months of meeting! And, that was with you both starting out hating each other!”

            “Now wait just a damn minute!” Thorin flared up, but Bilbo placed a hand on his arm to steady and quiet him.

            Bilbo, set on being a voice of reason, continued calmly, “It is true that your Uncle and I came to our understanding quickly, but it was an extraordinary time, as well you know. And despite what it may have looked like to others, I can assure you that we most certainly did not hate each other.” Bilbo took a calming breath. “However, we are not the focus here. Now, if there are mutual feelings, then it would not be out of the question for Opal to stay longer, _if she so chooses_. But I believe it would be best for her to make that request; definitely not _pressured_ into making it.”

            “I have already asked her to stay.” Fili said.

            “You did?” Dis seemed surprised, although Bilbo was not.

            “Yes,” Fili continued, “We talked about it the other day and I asked her if she would stay. She said that she would give it serious thought but she wanted time to think about it.”

            “Well,” Dis said, looking a bit pleased, “at least one of you has sense. And besides, I guess I should be thankful you haven’t started actually courting.”

            “I did give her a flower,” Fili said offhandedly.

            Bilbo was shocked. “Was this a potted plant?”

            “Yes.” Fili replied. “I gave her a Moon-Blossom that grows in the lower caves. I wanted her to know that plants grow here too.”

            Thorin was astounded and asked, “Did you realize that giving plants is a Hobbit courting gift?”

            Fili nodded. “I remember you giving Uncle Bilbo plants during your courting.”

            “If she accepted,” Bilbo said, now worried, “she may already view you as courting!”

            Fili swallowed and looked at his shoes before answering in small voice, “She refused me.”

            “She refused you?” Dis asked, in a quiet voice.

            “Yes,” Fili said, lifting his head and looking at each of the others before settling on Bilbo. “She said that she would gladly accept the flower as a sign of friendship, but that it was much too early for courting as she felt that as heir, I should not rush into anything. I told her that according to Dwarrow tradition, I could not ask her to enter courtship again for four weeks and that was when I asked her to stay.”

            Dis looked at Bilbo and he could have sworn he saw a glimmer of regret there before she turned to address Fili. “Well, she seems to have a good head on her shoulders. If she does decide to stay, I will be glad to take the time between your proposals of courtship to get to know her better.”

            Fili looked at his mother with wonder, “Really? You won’t oppose it?”

            Dis knew that she was fighting a losing battle at this point and she resolved to not stand in Fili’s way. Besides, how could she not admire a girl who had put Fili’s interests before her own? “Yes. I will take Bilbo’s advice and let nature take its course.”

            There was a loud knock before a guard entered the room, announcing “There is a young lady requesting to speak with Prince Fili.” All could see Opal standing just behind him.

            “Please let her in,” Thorin told the guard.

            “I apologize if I am interrupting” Opal said, looking hesitant to come all the way in the room.

            “Not at all,” Dis said, before either Thorin or Bilbo could speak.

            “Fili,” Opal said, turning to the Prince, “could I speak to you privately?” Her eyes were bright and she had a sweet smile on her face.

            “Of course.” Fili returned a toothy smile and turned back to the others as he walked out with Opal. “I’ll be back.”

            “Well,” Thorin said, as the doors closed behind the young couple, “it seems you two better get out the tea service and prepare for a wedding, if I am any judge.”

            “You are not,” Dis said dismissively.

            “Don’t count your gems before you cut them,” Bilbo said.

            Thorin didn’t respond but inwardly he knew he was right. If he knew anything, it was the look on a Hobbit’s face when they are happy and Opal’s was not unlike Bilbo’s when he had proposed to him. Of course, this also meant that it was time for a confession to Bilbo that would not result in that happy Hobbit face.

            As Dis left the room, murmuring that she had no idea what do at a tea, and Bilbo promising to help her in regard with that, Thorin placed a hand on Bilbo’s elbow, keeping him in the room.

            “Is there a problem?” Bilbo looked confused.

            “I have to tell you something that I didn’t think I would have to tell you.” Thorin gave him a worried look but he was determined.  "But, if Opal is going to be staying -"

            “What is it?”

            “Remember the night of your party? Drogo and Primula were talking about the rumors of your great uncle and Dwarf blood?”

            “Of course.”

            “Well,” Thorin looked away and started pacing. “I may have let it slip to Dwalin and Balin about all that and ...”

            “Thorin, what did you do?” Bilbo became worried.

            “They seemed to agree with me that such a rumor, if generally known, would be very advantageous to your position and might quell the Iron Hills Dwarrow from causing any more trouble as to your position as consort.” Thorin looked a little sheepishly at Bilbo, who in turn looked like someone had slapped him the face with a wet squirrel.

            “Thorin, that is nothing but rumor and gossip!”

            “You know perfectly well that the court of public opinion isn’t concerned with real or facts or truth! All they need is well placed rumor and gossip to make up their minds.”

            “I guess that explains why the general public has been so kind to me and my cousins when we are out and about.”

            “See? Already getting good results.”

            “That doesn’t change the fact that I should be angry with you!” Bilbo was not happy but the damage was done.

            “My love, I realize that I should have talked to you about it, but I will admit that I was still stinging over the incident with Hauk and Gimli and I was willing to do whatever I had to, to resolve any further questions regarding your worthiness to stand at my side.”

            Bilbo knew he should be angry but in truth, he could not be. Frankly, if all it took was a little gossip, no matter how unsupported it was, to bring some peace of mind to Thorin, than Bilbo could not really complain; he just would not answer any questions or help the rumors along if asked. Plus even he could not deny that if something did develop between Fili and Opal, any questions regarding her worthiness would be squashed before they even start.

            “So,” Bilbo said, giving Thorin a narrowed look, “is there anything else you haven’t told me that maybe you should have?” Bilbo smiled, hoping that Thorin would know that he was not going to be angry.

            However, Thorin bit his lower lip and looked anywhere but at Bilbo, “Well, there is the issue with the chest of gold I sent to the Mayor of the Shire.”

            “CHEST OF GOLD?!” Bilbo’s voice went high enough to crack, “WHAT CHEST?”

            Thorin sighed, “I was worried that the cousin you told me about, Loba or Lebla or something --"

           "Lobelia!"  Bilbo stated, clearly irked.

           "Lobelia," Thorin repeated, continuing.  "I feared Lobelia would try and take Bag End and I wanted to make sure that she didn’t go anywhere near it, so I sent a raven to the mayor and asked him to get me in touch with someone to look after the place, and that was when I was contacted by your neighbor, Hamfast Gamgee. He wrote back that he and your other neighbors were more than happy to keep that – what did he say –oh, yes, ‘gold-digging, two-faced, greedy harpy' out of Bag End. So, in the end, I was very pleased and sent along a – small chest as a thank you to the Mayor and Master Gamgee for them as reimbursement of their troubles and told them that anything left over to please share with the less fortunate hobbits in the area.”

            “What do you mean, ‘ _small chest_?'” Bilbo asked as his senses came back to him.

            “Oh– uhm – just not a large one.” Thorin said, trying to be as non-committal as possible.

            “Thorin!”

            “All right. It was a six dwarf chest! But that’s not as big as I could have sent!”

            “You mean to tell me that you sent a chest big enough that it required six grown dwarrow to carry it?!”

            “No!" Thorin said with laugh.  "Just to lift it--it was too heavy for them to actually _carry_ it.”

            “Eru have mercy! I can only imagine the Mayor’s reaction.”

            “The guards did say that he – uhm – well, he fainted.”

            “I bet he did, after sending him a chest full of gold!”

            “It wasn’t full of gold!"  Thorin rolled his eyes.  "There were some jewels and platinum in there as well.”

            Bilbo just laughed; there wasn’t much else to do. “ _Thorin Oakenshield_ , what were you thinking?”

            “What was I thinking?” Thorin replied, a little miffed that he had to explain. “I will tell you, _Bilbo Baggins_ , I will not have anyone – especially your miserable cousin – take over our home at Bag End, any more than I would allow her to march into our kingdom and sit her _arse_ on the Throne of Erebor! Because your happiness is worth more to me than a small amount of gold and a few gems!”

            Bilbo stood stock still, his mouth slack and open and a lovely warm glow was spreading through him.

            “Did you just say ‘ _our?_ ’” Bilbo asked quietly. “‘ _Our home, our kingdom_?’”

            “Of course!” Thorin said. “What I have is yours. I thought the same of you.”

            Any anger or displeasure Bilbo felt crumbled to dust. He could not be any more touched then he was at that moment. He walked over and pulled Thorin to him and kissed him in a warm wet kiss. As far as Bilbo was concerned, Thorin had just given him his birthday presents for the next several decades.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **What Hauk said of Bilbo**  
>  For those interested, Hauk actually accused Bilbo of being the King's whore and only sleeping with him to get gold and riches, and also stating that the King was a fool to fall for a being that was so far beneath him.
> 
> These comments are a particularly sore subject with Thorin, not just because they are insulting to his One and Consort, but Azog said much the same when he tried to kill Bilbor in the last moments of his life during the BoFA, and because in Thorin's nightmares, his subconscious has spewed those words as well.
> 
> \-----------------
> 
> *Bilbo's extremely formal introduction of his cousins to Thorin is standard etiquette. Although it's family, because Thorin is a King, people are present to him first and his address and formal titles should be used until such time as HE says otherwise.
> 
> \-----------------
> 
> Why did Thorin leave the room after meeting Opal?? Easy - he realized immediately that there wouldn't be a present for Opal after dinner, so he left to get the ring and that is why it was in his pocket and not with the other gifts (he would have been seen putting the ring box with the other gifts, so he kept in on his person). 
> 
> As for just having a ring ready - I am sure that Dwarfs have such things put away, for cases such as these (this ring, while awe inspiring to Hobbits, would be a trifle to the Dwarfs of Erebor). This is a similar idea of Hobbits with their Mathom Closets at home.


	5. Announcement

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Change can be a fickle friend - what one sees as a new beginning, another may only see it as the end of the road.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, I want to thank WHYISITCLEVER for the invaluable service of editing and sounding board.

            By the end of the first decade, Erebor was once again a mighty and wealthy kingdom.  Trade was lively and Dale and Laketown were profiting as well.  Even trade with Rivendell and Mirkwood increased and thanks to their combined talents, Thorin and Bilbo had ushered in a new era of peace with the Elves.  Of course, Thorin never forgave the slight and betrayal of Thranduil, but at least he could be in the same room and had slowly gotten out of the habit of calling them “tree-shaggers” or “weed-eaters,” but it had been a struggle.

            Thorin came to be considered a mighty King, the like of which his grandfather hadn’t achieved.  The gold-sickness was tightly controlled, the Arkenstone having been given to the people and incorporated in the Memorial for the Fallen at the Battle of the Five Armies in the center of the kingdom.  He was seen as a fair and honest ruler and most considered him and Bilbo a force to be reckoned with when the time called for it.

            As they passed their twenty-sixth year together, Thorin had become more distinguished with age as his once-sable hair turned completely to silver.  And many remarked that Bilbo hardly seemed to age and was still looked on as the same handsome Hobbit he was when he first arrived.

            Of course, as with so many things in life, nothing last forever.

 

 

 

 

 

* * *

 

**_11/2968_ **

 

            “We have finally finished the Map Room renovations,” Ori stated, following behind Bilbo.  “Now we just need to get some of the oldest and largest maps mounted and hung on the walls.”

            “That will look nice,” replied Bilbo, “and free up a great deal of space.”

            “My thoughts exactly!  In fact, I was thinking of using the extra space in the Map Room for the Dale and Mirkwood tomes we have, thus giving us greater space in the main archive.”

            “That’s an excellent idea!  It would give us easier access to those books when needed.”

            “Exactly!”  Ori looked quite pleased that Bilbo was in accordance.  But he was confused on one other thing.  “Uhm – where exactly are we going?”

            Bilbo laughed.  He had run into Ori on his way to speak to Thorin regarding the location of the school for the toddlers and tweens.  Both spaces were inadequate at this point and many mothers had asked him in the corridors and avenues of Erebor if there was anything he could do about the situation.  Naturally, he could.  Or at least bring it to the right attention.  Ori, of course, would be a great help in resources and books for the school.

            “We are looking for my spouse,” Bilbo said drolly.  “You may have heard of him,  _the King_.”

            Ori giggled, “I thought he met with my spouse at this time?”

            “Normally, yes,” Bilbo answered, a little puzzled.  “But Dwalin said that he hadn’t seen him since last night and then I met Balin, before running into you, and he said that he hadn’t seen him since this morning’s early council meeting.  I am a little concerned not having seen him myself all morning.”

            Bilbo was always concerned these days regarding Thorin.  For the last several months Thorin had been waking earlier and then staying up later and later, supposedly to finish paperwork, look into some issue or meet with some representative, or so he would say.  He always looked tired and his sleep was unsound.  On multiple occasions, Bilbo had awakened in the middle of the night with Thorin either sleeping in a chair or already up and locked in his study. 

            Plus, no one could question Thorin regarding any decisions.  His answers were short, and his tone was sharp, more prone to snapping and swearing at people than ever before.  If anyone had dared to point out his behavior, he would accuse the questioner of exaggerating. He would always end up yelling he didn’t need a nanny and to just leave him alone.  Just a fortnight past, Dis had confronted Thorin, but he turned on her and they had a huge fight that nearly became a brawl.  Since then, neither one of them was willing to be in the same room as the other, let alone speak.

            As they approached the intersection of two large corridors, Thorin walked across their path, followed moments later by a group of five dwarrow trying to, obviously, catch the king, and leading Bilbo and Ori to run up behind them.  As the group came up behind the king, they all spoke at once.

            “My King!  Some Elves are here demanding the return of Elven books –”

            “Your Majesty!  There has been a cave-in down in the second gold mine –”

            “Your Majesty!  I must speak to you regarding the diamond mine production –“

            “Sire!  There are Men from Dale here about the food exchange –”

            “Your Majesty!  There have been reports of an increase in crime in the –”

            “ENOUGH!”  Thorin bellowed without turning, his deep voice echoing off the polished walls.  The king took a deep breath, released it and turned to face the rest.  “Now,” Thorin said, addressing everyone.  “The cave-in.  Was anyone hurt and if so, how many?”

            “Eight miners,” said the gold mine representative.  “Two seriously; the other six are expected to be in the healers for at least a week.”

            “Inform Advisor Balin that he is to look into the collapse,” Thorin commanded, “and tell him that I want regular updates on the injured miner’s progress.  Also,” Thorin pointed to the other representative, “you are to go and speak to Balin about the production issues.  Tell him I want a full report by the end of the week.

            “As for crime, give all the reports to Captain Dwalin.  Tell him to enlist  _our friend_ ,” – Bilbo knew that meant Nori – “and that I want an update as soon as possible.” 

            Looking at the last two councilmen, Thorin gestured to Bilbo and Ori behind them.  “The Consort will speak with the Men from Dale and as for the Elves, have them see Ori with a list of the books they are demanding.  If the Elves give any trouble, the Consort will assist him.”  Thorin gave Bilbo and Ori a quick nod, then turned to go.

            “Your Majesty, I have an issue –” was all Bilbo got to say before Thorin turned on him.

            “FOR THE LOVE OF MAHAL, BILBO, FOR ONCE, CAN YOU JUST DO SOMETHING WITHOUT QUESTIONING ME?”  Thorin roared at Bilbo with rage clearly written on his face.    

            Bilbo could only stare back with wide eyes and a slack mouth, numb.  He finally blinked and looked down at his feet, feeling very small and hurt.

            Thorin didn’t say anything else but he swallowed hard, then turned and left, leaving the five other dwarrow and Ori to look anywhere but at Bilbo.

            Composing himself as best he could, Bilbo took a few deep but shaky breaths and spoke without looking directly at the others.  “Ori.  Please speak with Elves and tell them you and I will be more than happy to return the books but that it will take time. I will see you later about it.”

            Ori mumbled agreement and moved off, clearly embarrassed for Bilbo.

            Bilbo turned towards the others but still couldn’t meet anyone’s gaze.  “Please have the Men taken to the DaleRoom and tell them that I will see them shortly.  Make sure food and drink are brought to them.  As for the rest of you, the king made his orders known so I suggest you – you take care of them immediately.”

            The five dwarrow scurried away, leaving Bilbo alone in the cold corridor.   He took more deep breaths, trying to further calm himself and regain his equilibrium.  After several long minutes, he took a few steps and then began to walk to the Dale room to meet with the Men.  He didn’t notice that his hands were shaking.

 

 

 

 

 

* * *

             Lady Dis could only think of twice in her life when she was this angry; when her husband, Vili, had died uselessly in a stupid, needless mining accident, and of course, when her sons announced that they were determined to go off with their uncle to reclaim Erebor.  But both of those had been out of her control and there was very little to be done – the battle was deemed necessary and there wasn’t much she could have done to stop her sons from following their uncle.

            But this anger was something she _could_  do something about.  It had started a fortnight ago when she had confronted Thorin regarding his recent ill behavior and manners.  She was not content like Bilbo to take the diplomatic approach and attempt to reason with Thorin in a calm and modulated way.  She admired Bilbo, as in her eyes only a saint could remain so loving and loyal to her brother for twenty-six years, but she did not always agree with him.  However, when she confronted Thorin, he had raged and spit vitriol at her which she was more than happy to throw back.  It had escalated to the point that just as she was about to give Thorin a good punch in the face, Bilbo had rushed in with Dwalin and put a stop to it all.  Dis had stormed out and both she and Thorin refused to speak until the other had apologized.  Well, she was done waiting for that.

            Fili and Kili had come to her less an hour ago with unpleasant news.  Apparently, her  _loving_  brother had exploded and humiliated Bilbo, not only in front of his best friend, but in the presence of others.  Opal was the first to hear of the incident when she had gone to see Oin because of morning sickness, and heard it directly from one of the councilmen who had been there.  Opal immediately told Fili, who then told Kili and they both went to inform Dis.  As soon as she had found out, Dis and the princes went to speak with Balin, whom she found speaking with Dwalin and both told her they had already heard about the incident; and much worse.  With that, all five of them decided it was time to confront the king.

            Whatever Thorin’s issue was, the time had come to put an end to it.  Frankly, how he ran the kingdom was of little concern to Dis -- she would leave those issues for Balin and Dwalin --but the family was a totally different story.  She had suffered too many losses for her to sit back and let Thorin’s petty problems interfere and upset the family.  She almost laughed out loud at what her mother or grandmother would have done in her situation; they used to make the strongest warrior quake with just a well-raised eyebrow.

            Marching up to the Private Throne Room, Dis had no issue brushing aside the guard who tried to stop her and her entourage, and she threw open the huge doors hard enough for them to crash into the walls.

            Thorin was pacing in front of the steps leading up to the throne, but stopped as they all walked in.  His crown was sitting on the deep blue velvet cushion of the throne.

            “I haven’t time for your apologies, Dis,” Thorin said dismissively.

            “Don’t hold your breath on that account.”  Dis leveled a glowering look at the king.

            “Then leave.” Thorin turned away.

            “Don’t hold your breath on that either.”  Dis crossed her arms, and stood her ground.

 

 

 

 

 

* * *

 

            The meeting with the Dale representatives went very well.  Normally, Dale traded its food for farm tools and gold.  However, the army’s weapons were getting older now and they were in need of total replacement.  Bilbo was sure that it could be easily accomplished but they would not be given for free.  For a reduced price of gold, Bilbo had negotiated an increase in non-perishables for a set time limit – five years.  This would give the town greater weapons, Erebor a greater food reserve and all for a price that he was sure Thorin and the council would consider a fair trade.

            However, he would need to let Thorin know and he didn’t want to see him at the moment.  Bilbo was still hurt and embarrassed over this morning’s outburst, but as he headed to the Private Throne Room to report to the king, he thought it best to keep the report factual, to the point, and then depart.  At some point they would have to discuss it, but now was not that time.

            “Your Majesty, I just finished with the Men from –” Bilbo’s voice drifted into the room as he came around the corner and through the doors to the throne room, but he didn’t finish his statement. 

            He froze and took in the scene before him.  Thorin was standing in front of the throne, sans crown, while Dis, Fili, Kili, Balin and Dwalin were all in attendance in front of him.  Bilbo wasn’t sure of the situation but he instantly felt the tension; you could have cut the air with a sword it was so thick.  “What is going on?” Bilbo asked apprehensively.

            Dis turned to him with an almost satisfied look on her face.  “Well, well, look who it is, brother dear,” she said in a sickly sweet voice, “your doormat of the day.  Perhaps you would like wipe your boots on him again.”

             _So, I guess they heard about this morning,_ Bilbo thought.  He looked at Thorin and while the king’s face was unreadable, his eyes said something else; he looked almost lost.  And that, coupled with Dis’ snide remark, turned Bilbo’s spine to iron.  No matter how mad, hurt or disappointed he was, no one was going to belittle Thorin in front of him.

            “As Consort of Erebor,” Bilbo said loudly and glaring at Dis, “I absolutely forbid disrespect of His Majesty in my presence!  Is that clear?”

             This apparently was not the response that anyone in the room expected, especially Dis.  “Bilbo, how can –” Dis started, but was cut short.

            “ _Is that clear_?”  Bilbo repeated firmly.

            No one said a word and all eyes were glued to him at that moment.  Bilbo straightened his back and tried his hardest to maintain an imperious look – which wasn’t easy for him.  He didn’t often play that role; it just wasn’t in his nature.  But this time he knew it was all up to him.

            Bilbo calmly walked towards Thorin. If this was going to work, they had to at least appear to be united.  He saw the king’s crown on the throne and stepped forward to retrieve it.  Turning around on the throne steps, he placed the crown on the king’s head.  _Best to look the part,_ Bilbo thought as he stepped out front and leveled his gaze at the rest of the room.            

            Taking a deep, calming breath, Bilbo started.  “Now, I take it from Lady Dis’ comment that this little conference is in regards to this morning’s exchange between –”

            “The inappropriate exchange,” Dis threw out just loud enough to be heard.

            “How could you do this?”  Kili addressed Thorin, his voice raw.  “How could you treat Uncle Bilbo this way and in public?”

            Bilbo hated to hear the hurt in Kili’s voice, but he kept his focus on Dis.  “This morning’s exchange was between His Majesty and his consort, and as such, is no one else’s concern.”

            “Unfortunately, Consort,” Balin said, stepping forward.  “It was not private and is now common knowledge.  The two mine representatives wasted no time in telling and retelling the tale which has spread like quicksilver throughout the mines.”

            “And the markets, thanks to the councilmen,” Dwalin added.

            “Correct me if I am wrong,” Bilbo replied, “but shouldn’t His Majesty’s Chief Advisor and Captain of the Royal Guards be able to handle gossip?”  Balin and Dwalin exchanged quick looks as Bilbo continued.  “Could it not be said that everyone has bad days, even the King, and it shouldn’t come as a surprise that his temper might be – short, now and again?”

            “Regrettably,” Balin said, “the gossip has become less about His Majesty and more towards his consort’s worthiness.”

            “According to Nori and some of the guards,” Dwalin added, “talk has turned to whether the king has grown tired of his consort.”

            “Opal was crying all afternoon,” Fili said.  “She fears that people will not only turn against you, Uncle Bilbo, but against her and the boys as well!”

            While he could handle his own battles, Fili’s comment did not sit well with Bilbo and his anger was clear when he spoke with Balin and Dwalin.  “His Majesty is most confident in your abilities to impart the information that he does not look kindly upon those who question his personal choices, and he would be most displeased with  _anyone_  who continues to spread lies, especially regarding the royal family!  Am I correct?”

            Balin and Dwalin both looked at Thorin who said, in a quiet voice, “Yes, indeed.”

            “It would seem then, my good sirs,” Bilbo finished, “that you both have much work to do.  Elsewhere.”

            Balin and Dwalin again exchanged glances but bowed to the King and Consort, and turned to go.  As they exited the room, Bilbo turned his attention to the two princes.

            “Fili,” Bilbo said, “Would you be so kind as to inform Opal that, regrettably, I will be unable to watch the boys this evening?”

            “She will be disappointed,” Fili said in a way that implied he was as well.

            “Yes, I am sure she will be.  However, I am positive that Kili would be more than happy to take my place.  There is no reason for the two of you to cancel your night alone.”

            “I will do so gladly,” Kili answered warily.  “But, Uncle Bilbo –”

            “Thank you, Kili!”  Bilbo said, giving the prince a sharp look.  “I am most appreciative, as, I am sure, are Fili and Opal.  If you would go with Fili, I believe your presence will help quell Opal’s disappointment and, His Majesty and I need to speak with your mother.  Alone.”

            Like Balin and Dwalin, the two princes looked at each other, knowing they were dismissed.  Both bowed and left the room, but Bilbo was sure they were just around the corner to eavesdrop.  He didn’t really care.

            During all the other exchanges, Dis stood with her arms crossed and a stony expression gracing her face. 

            “Lady Dis,” Bilbo said, quietly.  “There is an evening council session scheduled tonight.  As His Majesty is not feeling his best, he would be most grateful if you would chair the meeting in his place.”

            Dis looked as if she would laugh out loud. “I would be most honored to do whatever His Majesty  _asks_ me to do.”  Both Dis and Bilbo turned to look directly at the king.

            Clearing his throat, the king inhaled and asked in a flat voice.  “Dis, would you be so kind as to chair the council meeting for me this evening?”

            “Of course,  _Your Majesty_ ,” Dis said, in a honey-coated voice, “I am, of course, at your service.”  She gave him a low curtsy in mock subservience.

            “Thank you, Lady Dis,” Bilbo said.  “Your assistance is most appreciated by His Majesty and his consort.”  He bowed his head to her.  “Would you kindly close the doors as you leave?”

            Dis took the hint and nodded back to Bilbo, but not without throwing a smirk to Thorin as she turned.  At the doors, she gave another low curtsy and Bilbo could swear he heard her laughing just as the doors closed shut.

            Bilbo pressed his palms to his eyes and took a deep breath, exhaled and relaxed his shoulders.  It was fine to play the royal consort from time to time but it still took a great deal out of him.  Thorin was good at the whole imperious looks and dominating presence and whatnot, but Bilbo was the peacemaker, the diplomat, the one to bridge any argument, no matter how great the distance of opinions. But this situation wasn’t really over yet.

            “Do not mistake my defense of you,” Bilbo said, giving Thorin a sharp look, “as forgiveness.  You hurt and humiliated me, but I have cleared our schedules for this evening so we candiscuss this later.  Right now, I need to go see Opal and make my formal apologies.” Bilbo turned on his heel but said over his shoulder, “Because when someone disappoints another, it is most important that they apologize immediately.”  Bilbo slammed the door behind him, leaving the king alone with the echo of his departure.

 

 

 

 

 

* * *

 

            Bilbo was actually glad to finally be heading home.  It had taken almost an hour just to calm Opal and reassure Fili.  Both thought Bilbo should sleep elsewhere and make the king stew in his own juices, but Bilbo refused – that never worked and he worried that it would only aggravate the situation.

            Of course, Fili and Opal’s sons were very disappointed.  Thrain, the oldest, was very close to Uncle Thorin, while the ten year old twins, Vili and Dili, named in honor of Fili’s father and mother, respectively, were as devoted to Uncle Bilbo as their father and his brother were.  They loved to sit with Bilbo and hear stories and all about the shire.

            Kili was another matter; he was the most visibly upset over the situation.  Bilbo had to speak to him alone and soothe him before he was able to coax a small smile from the prince. Bilbo knew how fond Kili was of his Uncles, almost like surrogate parents in many aspects, and in a way, they viewed him more as the child they would have had if they could.  But Kili was particularly close to Bilbo, who made no excuses for coddling the young prince.

            After that, Bilbo had gone to see Ori.  Of course, like Opal and the princes, Ori needed to be reassured.   Dwalin was there but didn’t speak with Bilbo.  He appeared tense and unhappy but said nothing further about the meeting earlier.  Whether he was upset with Thorin, Bilbo or just the whole situation, Bilbo could not say.

            It was early evening when he returned to their apartment.  Even to this day, Bilbo loved the apartments that Thorin had commissioned for them as a ten year anniversary gift.  In fact, many craftsmen and smiths had gladly agreed to assist with the apartment as a way to not only celebrate their king and consort but to show their gratitude for years of prosperity. 

            The apartment had double doors which were cut in a round shape to look like a Hobbit door, except they weren’t made of wood but a deep green marble.  The doors opened onto a round, domed space with polished honey-colored stone, about thirty feet across and twenty feet high and across the room from the door was a fireplace just a few inches shorter than Bilbo with a round opening also outlined in the green marble.  In the center of the room was a large pedestal table five feet across, also made of the deep green marble, and in the middle of the table rested a dozen silver candlesticks in various heights, which when lit cast a warm glow on the polished walls.

            The domed room had four arched doors, two on either side.  Of the two doors on the left, the first one led to guest rooms that currently were used by the grand-nephews when they came to visit and the second to the private dressing room and bathroom for the royal pair.  Of the two doors on the right, the one closest to the main door led to Thorin’s private study and had its own door that led to the outside corridor.  The last door was to the bedroom and sitting room and this was where the only visible light came from.

            Bilbo slowly made his way to the bedroom and saw the small table where they took private suppers loaded with food that appeared untouched and a small keg that he was sure held Dwarrow Ale.  He looked and instantly saw the back of Thorin’s head over the top of the small settee in front of the fireplace.  As Bilbo watched, the king lifted a tankard of ale, took a drink and then dropped it again to rest in his lap.

            The anger and hurt Bilbo felt earlier had burned themselves out and he was already collected before he entered the apartment.  They’d had their share of disagreements, arguments and shouting matches, but in the end they always came back together.  Their personalities worked well with one another; one not dominating the other, neither one needing to submit.  And when united, they could be, and had been, a near unstoppable force.  Even Dis was rarely a match for the two of them when they were of one mind.

            But the last several months had tested all limits.  Bilbo felt as if Thorin was slipping away.  It was almost like the gold-sickness but there didn’t seem to be any obsessive compulsions nor any fixations; just a gradual recession.  It had begun with Thorin keeping longer hours, isolating himself in his study.  Then it seeped into his decisions, many made without any consultation, and at times it seemed, without any thought of consequences.

            The collapse in the gold mine was a good example.  Thorin had ignored all advice about the mine but had made the decision weeks ago to increase output.  He had refused to entertain even the slightest notion that it was dangerous, but he had signed off on it and now, eight miners were injured and Bilbo had heard the mine was unusable.

            As for his temper, that had steadily grown shorter and hotter.  Shouting orders and demanding silence, ignoring the council and advisors at every turn.  He shook off concerns and grew impatient whenever Bilbo pointed out anything to him.  He had even gotten to the point where he would not play with his great-nephews, and in fact, would leave the room and sequester himself in his study until they were gone.  This had hurt young Thrain more than anyone as he loved to have mock battles with the wooden swords Thorin had commissioned for them to play with.

            Bilbo remembered Balin and Dwalin mentioning the rumors had called into question if perhaps the king had grown tired of his consort.  Try as he might, Bilbo could not escape the idea that maybe there was truth in those rumors and that, among all other worries, filled him the most with fear.

            As Bilbo walked over to him, Thorin took another drink of ale but still didn’t turn around; he was either unaware or unconcerned with Bilbo’s presence.   Bilbo was unsure if this was a good sign of not, but he decided that acting calm and normal was probably best.

            “Thorin?’  Bilbo said quietly, hoping to ease into a conversation.

            Thorin barely turning to look at him.  “I was wondering when you would get here.”

            “I went to Ori’s after seeing Opal.  I figured I would see him tonight and get it out of the way.”

            Thorin just nodded, turned back to the fire and took a large drink of his ale, finishing it.

            “Have you eaten?”  Bilbo asked, suspecting the answer.

            “Not hungry,” Thorin answered, holding up his now empty tankard. “Just thirsty.”  He placed it on the table in front of the settee alongside the three other empty tankards that Bilbo just noticed.

            “Why not let me fix you a plate?  It’s not good to drink on an empty stomach.”

            Thorin let off a small, hollow chuckle.  “Certainly wouldn’t be the worst decision I ever made.”

            Bilbo felt the hair on the back of his neck stand up.  He was starting to feel a bit weak and he perched himself on the edge of the settee.  He had been so intent on speaking with Thorin and clearing the air, but now found that his voice and thoughts had fled him.  He could only sit there and listen to the sound of the fire crackling and while it gave off warmth, he felt cold.

            “I think we need to talk.  Don’t you?”  Bilbo asked.

            “Yes,” Thorin said, without turning to look at Bilbo.  “We need to talk about our future.”

            Bilbo’s chest tightened and his throat closed.  “Our future?”

            “I know we counted on an unstated surety,” Thorin said, just above a whisper.  “But I can’t lie anymore.  I have come to a crossroads that I can’t escape.”

            “Escape?”  It was like waiting on the edge of a parapet; Bilbo could feel the pull of gravity and he was going to fall.  “You feel trapped?”

            “Trapped.  Chained.”  Thorin said, staring at the fire as if he would jump into it.  “How did it come to this?  I’m not sure.  I just know it can’t go on.”

            Bilbo couldn’t breathe and his heart felt like it was going to stop any moment.  He wanted to run but he couldn’t move.  “Do you want me to go?”

            Thorin finally turned with a disbelieving, almost angry look on his face.  “ _Go_?  That’s rich!  You were the one saying we had to talk and now you just want to bolt?!”

            “I don’t know, Thorin!  I don’t know what to do!”

            “And you think I do?!  You think I planned for this?!”

            “Well, I didn’t plan for it!”  Bilbo’s eyes sparkled in the firelight and his head was starting to pound but he was going to try his best and hold it together.

            “Frankly, I didn’t think you would give a damn!”  Thorin stood and looked at Bilbo as if he had only seen him for the first time.

            “What are you saying?!”  Bilbo was on the verge of tears, he could feel it but he was just angry enough to hold them back.  “It’s everything to me!”

            “Oh, well,” Thorin said sarcastically, “I guess I will just go through the motions so that you’re happy!”

            Bilbo couldn’t believe what he was hearing.  “How can you be so casual and cold about this?!   You are talking about ending the life we know!”

            “Excuse me, but I was kind of thinking of it as being a new beginning for us both!  Sorry I didn’t look at it as the gloom and doom you do!”

            “You unfeeling bastard!  How can you say that?!”

            “You want me to sacrifice my life in exchange for your comfort – and  _I’m_ the bastard?!”

            “I don’t want you to sacrifice anything!  I only ever wanted your happiness!”

            “THEN WHY ARE YOU FIGHTING ME ON THIS?!”

            “BECAUSE I WON’T LET OUR MARRIAGE END WITHOUT A FIGHT!”

            The echoes died and there was only the sound of the fire.  Bilbo felt his tears finally fall hot on his cheeks as he stared at his spouse.  But Thorin just stood still, his mouth gaping and a perplexed look on his face.

            “You’ve gone insane,” Thorin said quietly.  “Who in Mahal’s name said  _anything_  about ending out marriage?”

            “YOU DID!”  Bilbo was sure that he was not the insane one in the room.  “You were the one talking about being trapped and chained and being at a bloody crossroads and escaping and that whole new beginnings rot!”

            As Thorin came over, he placed his hands on Bilbo’s shoulders and shook his head.  “Bilbo, I wasn’t talking about  _our marriage_.  I was talking about  _being king_  – I want to abdicate.”

            Bilbo heard a rushing in his ears and then did what any sensible Hobbit would do; he began to pound on Thorin’s chest with his fists.  “YOU IDIOT!  YOU TOTAL ARSE!  YOU CLUELESS CLOD OF A DWARF!  HOW COULD YOU DO THIS TO ME?!”

            Thorin got more amused with each blow of Bilbo’s fists.  As Bilbo raged, Thorin slowly wrapped his arms around him, drawing his consort closer until there wasn’t enough room to pull back and swing and quickly, Bilbo just dissolved into sobs and tears.

            “You silly Hobbit,” Thorin whispered, cradling Bilbo’s head.  “Of everything in my life,  _you’re_ the only thing I  _am_  sure of.”

 

 

 

 

* * *

            If there was one thing to be said for the royal kitchens at Erebor, it was that they always outdid themselves on a near daily basis.  The roasted boar and potatoes were excellent and the vegetables were fresh and perfectly seasoned.  All in all, the dinner was perfect and for dessert there was a wonderful pumpkin cake with a creamed frosting.  Bilbo and Thorin had moved it all from the table to the white Warg rug in front of the fireplace.  After all the excitement and stress of the last few months, and this morning in particular, they were both content to just sit and eat and be together.

            “You know,” Thorin said with a mouth full of boar, “this sauce is really good!”

            “You can thank my mother for that,” Bilbo replied helping himself to more vegetables.  “I passed some of her old recipes to Bombur to try out.  That sauce was what finally won my father over and he proposed.”

            “Well, if you had served me this the first night we met, I might have proposed too!”

            Bilbo just giggled.  “You would have scared the pants off me!”

            “That wouldn’t have been bad either.”  Thorin gave Bilbo a lascivious wink which only made the Hobbit’s ears turn bright red, but smile nonetheless.  Thorin put down his food and looked at Bilbo seriously.  “I know I said it before, but I am truly sorry about this morning.  It was never my intention to hurt you.”

            Bilbo reached out and cupped Thorin’s bearded cheek.  “I know you didn’t.  I knew when it happened that it wasn’t intended.  Of course, that didn’t mean I wasn’t angry with you.”

            “As you should have been.”     

            “I do wish you would have told me all that you were going through sooner.   You needn’t have shouldered that burden alone.”

            “What was I going to say?   I figured it was just a rut and that it would pass.  When it didn’t, I didn’t know how to express it – it seemed ridiculous to begin with, let alone said aloud.”  Bilbo opened his mouth to comment but Thorin cut him off.  “And don’t say anything about Dwarrow Stubbornness!”

            “Don’t need to now.”  Bilbo said with a raised eyebrow.

            “Shall we talk about Hobbit assumptions instead?”  Thorin gave Bilbo a smirk that made them both laugh and they continued to eat. 

            However, Bilbo’s mind was turning things over and it just didn’t completely add up.

            “Is there anything else that is bothering you?”  Bilbo tried to be casual but he was well known to push when needed.

            Thorin continued to chew but he seemed to be reluctant to swallow.  “Why would you ask that?”

             _Because I have known you for almost thirty years, my amagur,_  Bilbo thought. Thorin was brave, courageous, and sharp, not one for playing games, so to leave it all behind for sheer boredom or routine, or even just feeling trapped, seemed out of character.  He was almost positive that like the root of the mountain, there was a deeper issue that was the actual cause of Thorin’s desire for abdication.  “There is something else isn’t there?”  Bilbo asked.

            “Well, what do you think there is?”  Thorin asked, not fooling Bilbo.

            “Don’t turn this back on me.”

            Thorin finished eating, cleaned his hands, and took a drink of ale before looking at Bilbo with a serious expression.  Bilbo had the impression that Thorin was studying his face.  There were other emotions in the dwarf’s eyes and they spoke of sadness or even fear. 

            “Tell me,” Thorin said, quietly.  “What is the average lifespan of a Dwarf?”

            “What?”

            “What is the average lifespan of a Hobbit?”  Continuing as if not having heard Bilbo, Thorin’s voice was just a tad above a whisper. 

            “I don’t like these questions,” Bilbo said.

            “You can dislike the questions all you want, but we can’t escape reality,” Thorin said, taking Bilbo’s hands in his.  “The average Dwarf lives to about two hundred and fifty and the average Hobbit, if I am not mistaken, to about one hundred.  I am two-hundred and twenty-two years old, âzyungel, and you are seventy-eight. I don’t want our last years to be council sessions, diplomatic meetings, mine production reports or farm evaluations.  I want to spend my last days with just you.”

            Bilbo was unnerved by the thought.  Yes, it was true, it was all true, but that didn’t mean he wanted to face it.  Not now.  Thorin had turned silver but he was still strong and vibrant and Bilbo still felt young and many times it felt like they had just begun.  He wasn’t sure he wanted to give up that illusion.

            “Gerontius Took lived to be one hundred and thirty!”  Bilbo said, trying to dispel his darkening mood.  “And I know from the Dwarrow history books that some dwarfs live to be over three hundred years old!”

            “Those are exceptions, mizimel,” Thorin said quietly.  “Not the norm.”

            Bilbo was still unsettled by the conversation but he truly couldn’t argue with Thorin.  Indeed, time was an enemy you could not fight.  Maybe they would live much longer than the averages, maybe they wouldn’t.  But the thought of living on when the other had gone almost made him sick and, Eru forbid, if it was he who lived on while Thorin passed on to the halls of his fathers – the thought made him shiver.  He knew he would have dreams tonight of such dark things.

            “I guess when all is said and done – what now?”  Bilbo asked, trying to turn the conversation to abdication.

            “Officially, I have to make a proclamation to the council and the kingdom.  After that, it will be up to the council to decide if my heir is ready to take over ruling.  If not, then they could force me to stay, although that it unlikely. No, our best course of action is to tell the family in the morning, tell the council thereafter and then start handing more and more duties to Fili until he is able to effectively rule in my place.  I am looking at two, if not three years.”

            It made sense to Bilbo.  Thorin couldn’t very well hand over his crown and – and what?  “Have you thought about what we will do once you are – free?”  Bilbo had an idea.

            “I have thought about that,” Thorin said, giving his spouse a little smile.  “We still have a home in The Shire, do we not?”

            Bilbo threw his arms around Thorin’s neck and kissed him.  While he had only ventured once to The Shire to get a few things from Bag End, he had not been there in many years.  The thought of them, alone and relaxed in the quiet of The Shire was more than just a beautiful dream, it could be a reality.  He could see Thorin stretched out in the grass, dozing in the midday sun, or seated in his father’s chair by the fire, cold nights snuggled under the blankets or waking in the mornings to the sounds of birdsong.

            Plus there were other perks that tickled his thoughts.   _I can’t wait to see Lobelia’s face when Thorin answers the door at Bag End!_ Bilbo thought, as he deepened the kiss and the food was completely forgotten.

 

 

 

 

* * *

            Calling the family together in the morning didn’t go quite as expected. 

            Dis was the first to arrive.  Thorin immediately apologized for his behavior and while he endured a few potshots, it was clear she was grateful and relieved to be back on speaking terms with him.  Kili arrived next and was much happier to see things had indeed worked out.

            Balin, Dwalin and Ori arrived at the same time as Fili and Opal.  The prince and princess were cautious and Opal was a little stand-offish with Thorin at first.  Bilbo ended up talking with her and Thorin had to apologize to her personally to finally settle the matter.

            With everyone there and seated around the fire, Thorin and Bilbo stood together and with a deep breath, Thorin stated his desire to abdicate.

            To say that they expected more than gape-mouthed stunned silence was a given, but then again, neither expected the utter explosive chaos of emotions a few seconds later.  Dis, Balin and Dwalin all began to shout at once and questioned not only Thorin’s thinking process and sanity, but his overall mental capacity.  Fili started a few seconds later, peppering Thorin with questions regarding his ability and worries over his family and children.  Opal began to cry and, like Fili, was concerned regarding the boys and her unborn child.  Of course, she was prone to cry at anything at the moment, and Ori took it upon himself to move over and comfort her.   Kili however, just sat there and looked at his lap.  He made no sound, asked no questions, and finally leaped up and ran from the room.  Bilbo called to him to come back but only got the front doors slamming as a response.  He wanted to run after him, but felt that leaving Thorin at this moment was not in their best interest.  Kili would have to wait.

            Through it all, Thorin kept his arm tightly wrapped around Bilbo’s shoulders.  Thorin had tried to answer questions as they came at him but it quickly became too much to keep up with the shouting and ended up just saying ‘No’ and ‘Yes’ and the occasional ‘Of course’ when needed.  He quickly saw that it was best to just let it all burn itself out before attempting to make sense for anyone else.

            After twenty long and tiring minutes, Thorin finally just held up his hands and called for quiet.  The elder dwarrow retook their seats and finally Thorin was able to talk collectively to the group.

            “I realize,” Thorin said, “that this comes as a bit of surprise to you.” 

            Bilbo hadn’t seen his spouse so calm in months and in fact, he couldn’t recall the last time he had been this calm about anything.  He wondered again just how heavy this burden had weighted on Thorin’s mind and for how long. 

            “SURPRISE?!”  Dis said, her voice going up an octave again.  “That’s putting it mildly!”

            “There is no precedent for this.” Balin looked almost grave.  “No King has ever abdicated.”

            “True,” Thorin replied.  “Most died in battle or from old age.  But there are ancient traditions in place for abdication.”

            “Traditions that have never been used,” Balin pointed out.  “The council must be told and they will have to approve.”

            “They will not refuse me, and frankly, according to all that I have read, proclaiming a desire to abdicate could be seen as an insult to the kingdom or weakness in my character, either of which would allow the council to call for my immediate removal.”

            “They would never do that,” Balin stated emphatically.

            “One can still live in hope,” Thorin quipped, making Bilbo giggle, but strangely no one else found it amusing.

            Dis still didn’t seem convinced.  She sat with her arms crossed and a stony look upon her face.  Her main opposition was due, primarily, to concern for Fili and how it would impact her grandchildren.  Secondarily, she thought that at the very least Thorin was going off on a whim and would later change his mind, or at worse, he had lost his mind completely.   She seemed to be under the idea that Thorin would just hand over his crown to Fili today, wave good-bye and walk out the front door.   And judging from Fili’s worried look and doubts about his ability to simply “take over,” he was of like mind with his mother.

            It was all Thorin or Bilbo could do to keep from rolling their eyes.  Bilbo would go over with Dis and Opal all his duties and connections and who was who and what was what to make sure that the other kingdoms had a smooth time with the transition, and Thorin assured everyone that he was well aware of having to take time and slowly hand over duties and responsibilities to Fili.  This appeared to be Opal’s concern as she worried about Fili suddenly being absent from her children’s lives.  Of course, Thorin and Dis had grown up with a father and grandfather who almost shared responsibilities so, yes, it was a concern but taking a few years for both Fili and the children to adjust would be best.

            As the questions came up, it became clear to all that, indeed, Thorin had been thinking and planning ahead and that Bilbo was supporting his decision.  No one particularly cared for the idea but at least resignation was beginning to set in.  It would happen or Thorin would change his mind, but there was not going to be a middle ground. 

            Dwalin of course had other concerns on his mind.  When told of their intentions of moving to the The Shire, he almost laughed out loud, feeling that Thorin would be ripe for any enemy to come along and use him as a pawn in whatever game they wanted to play.  He certainly thought Thorin would warrant a handsome, kingly ransom, whether he wore the crown or not.  While Thorin attempted to point out that he had always been a target, Bilbo also made the comment that the Dunedain patrolled and protected the borders of The Shire, especially the Rangers of the North.  This didn’t settle Dwalin, but it was agreed that it was a subject for a later date.

            Finally came the time to prepare for the council.  Balin and Thorin both agreed that while Bilbo was consort, it would be best for Thorin to address the council on his own.  Bilbo was nonplussed about it and agreed that whatever they thought best for Thorin, was what he wanted too.  Fili of course, would have to be there.   Dis agreed to go with Opal and together they would speak with her grandchildren and at least begin the preparation for what was to come.   Balin, Dwalin, Fili, and Thorin then left for the council chambers, followed by Dis and Opal.

            Ori stayed behind for a minute and turned to Bilbo at the door.  “I will miss you so much!”  He already looked like he wanted to cry.

            “Oh, Ori!”  Bilbo hugged the scribe tightly.  “We aren’t leaving tomorrow and you know perfectly well when we do go, you and Dwalin are more than welcome to come and visit and stay as long as you like!”

            “I did love the The Shire,” Ori said with a small smile, “and I would love to spend more time there.  But I know from this point on, every day will be one less for us to share.  You are my best friend--how will I manage without you?”         

            “You will manage just fine.”  Bilbo was so touched and he too considered the dwarf his best friend.  They had grown together in a shared love of books, maps and things that grew.  Not to mention, their love of the two fiercest dwarrow in all of Erebor.

            As Ori waved good-bye and headed for the Archive, Bilbo realized that he still needed to talk with Kili. He tried his apartments but he was not there, nor was he with Dis and Opal.  After asking many guards, it was suggested that he try the middle balcony at the gate.  However, this also proved pointless as the guards there said that Kili had come much earlier but didn’t stay and they had no idea where he had gone to.  Finally, after almost two hours, Bilbo came to the conclusion that Kili didn’t want to be found and he would wait for the prince to come to him.

            Bilbo decided he needed a distraction.  He cancelled all his appointments, ignored the correspondence when it was delivered, and headed out to the garden terrace that Thorin had presented to him.  A few hours mucking around in the dirt and checking on the winter plants was just the thing to calm and collect his thoughts.  Whatever else happened, he would be ready and be fine.  At least, that is what he told himself.

            However, as the day wore on, Bilbo’s concern began to grow.   Kili hadn’t shown up at all and by mid-afternoon, Thorin also hadn’t returned.  Figuring Thorin would probably prefer dinner in their apartments, Bilbo headed to the kitchens to request that food be brought up around sunset.  This gave him the excuse to go by the council chambers, but when he got there found the doors were still closed and guards were outside with strict orders to not let anyone in.  He also stopped by Kili’s apartments again, but there was still no sign of the prince.  Dis told him not to worry but that did nothing to ease his mind.

            Finally, just after dinner was brought up, Bilbo was sitting on the settee reading, when he heard the apartment doors close and Thorin’s heavy footfalls.  He looked up to see his very haggard and tired-looking spouse enter the room.

            “I take it you didn’t have fun,” Bilbo said, without the humor that would normally accompany the comment.

            Thorin just rolled his eyes, shaking his head, then tossed his crown onto the bed, shrugged off his robe and tunic onto the floor and slumped down onto the settee next to Bilbo.  He took a deep breath, let it out and allowed his head to rest against the back of his seat with his eyes closed. 

            Bilbo moved over, straddled Thorin’s lap and began to massage Thorin’s temples.  That earned Bilbo a soft groan of pleasure as well as two strong dwarf hands coming up to rest on his hips.

            “What happened?”  Bilbo asked quietly.

            “If we thought the family discussion was bad,” Thorin said, not opening his eyes, “it was nothing compared to the council.”  He began to gently move his hands up and down Bilbo’s back in rhythm to Bilbo’s slow massage of his temples.  “Fourteen old men, shouting and yelling all at once, none of them listening, all asking the same damn things over and over again, just in different ways.  All the while having to endure my sanity being questioned for a second time in one day.  And then, after hours of bickering and demands, finally getting them all to calm down enough to listen, someone had the bright idea that,  _of course_ , we just  _had_  to involve the mine representatives, only to have the chaos start all over again!”

            “Oh, my poor amagur,” Bilbo whispered, bringing his lips to each of Thorin’s cheeks.  “I am so sorry you had to go through that.”

            “No way around it,” Thorin replied. “Besides, it is now done and they have agreed to not stand in our way.”

            “How did they take to Fili becoming king?”

            “Of that, they had less of an issue.  It was always known he would take over so it was no surprise.  They all stated that he was not ready yet, but they did agree to a two-year time table with another year as an option.  Fili will slowly begin overseeing mine operation and production issues this first year.  Then he will take over foreign and domestic concerns during the second.  They also agreed that you will pass off your duties to Opal and Dis during this time as well.  At the end of two years, if the council doesn’t feel that he is ready, I have agreed to stay up to one more year.  However, at the end of three years, we’re going.”

            Thorin pulled Bilbo to him and kissed him deeply, before releasing him and opening his eyes.  “What do you think of all this?”  Thorin gazed at Bilbo with what the hobbit could only see was concern.  “We have only talked about me and what I want.  What of you?”

            Bilbo resumed his massage of Thorin’s temples.  “I go where you go. Where you are is home so whether we stay here or go to The Shire, it will be fine as long as we are together.”  This earned him another kiss and two strong arms wrapped around him as he finally settled in against Thorin’s broad chest.

            Funny thing was, now that Thorin asked, Bilbo had to really think on it.  He was thrilled and touched that Thorin had not only suggested The Shire but that he had been thinking on it before it was even brought up.  But did mean they  _had_  to go back there?  They could just as easily go to Belegost in the Blue Mountians or settle elsewhere in the The Shire other than Bag End,  The Capital, Michel Delving, was the government center and Bilbo doubted that having the former King Under the Mountain was going to be kept a secret long in the nosey, gossipy Shire.  But then, the idea living in Bag End with Thorin was such the clear choice.

            Could they stay here in Erebor?  As quickly as the thought danced into his mind’s eye, it was gone.  Staying here while Fili was King would not be in Fili’s best interest.  Many, including Fili, might continuously turn to Thorin for advice and solutions and it would totally undermine the entire point of abdicating.  No, the best thing for everyone would be for them to leave and settle further away.

            Yet, Erebor was home, and he would miss the members of the company, especially Ori, and he would miss many of the people he had come to know so well.   And he would surely miss Dis who couldn’t have been closer if she were his blood sister.  He was sad at not seeing Fili, Opal and the boys on a daily basis, but young Thrain was starting weapon training in a few weeks and the twins were starting school, but there would always be visits.   And Kili …

            He sat up suddenly, startling Thorin.  “Kili!” Bilbo gasped.  “He ran out this morning and I could never find him!”

            “You mean you haven’t seen him,” Thorin said, as if correcting Bilbo.

            “No!  I mean I couldn’t  _find him_!”  Bilbo was wide-eyed and his concern was clearly on his face.  “I asked and only the guards on the middle balcony saw him but couldn’t say where he went to. He hasn’t been back to his apartments either.”

            Thorin might have exuded a calm exterior, but Bilbo knew him well enough to know that at the very least his concerns were taken seriously.  Bilbo was not surprised when Thorin made the move to stand and Bilbo gladly climbed off and stood with him.

            “Stay here.”  Thorin walked away and Bilbo heard the opening of the front doors.  There was no other sound for at least a minute and then the doors closed followed by the returning steps of his spouse.   “I have asked the guards to look for him and report back.”  But Bilbo’s concern only deepened which Thorin picked up on even more keenly.  “Do not worry.  If I have to, I will go and search myself.” 

            Thorin kissed Bilbo on his head and it was decided that they would eat, put the day behind them and wait for word on Kili.

            The dinner was excellent as always.  Bilbo had requested Thorin’s favorite; lamb and leek stew, as well as creamed broccoli and smashed baby potatoes with cabbage.  Bilbo had even asked Bombur for a pumpkin cake with a cream frosting for dessert.  The mood slowly lightened and by the time the main course was done, Thorin was much relaxed.

            Just as they were about to partake of dessert, there was a heavy knock on the door.  Upon opening the door, Bilbo was overjoyed to see Kili standing there next to a royal guard.

            “Oh thank Mahal!”  Bilbo reached for Kili and led him in.  The prince had a sullen expression and avoided eye contact with either Bilbo or Thorin even as the king walked up behind his consort.

            “Where was he?”  Thorin asked the guard.

            “He was in the treasure room,” the guard answered.

            Thorin looked at Kili, who still did not look up, and sighed.  “Thank you,” the king said, nodding to the guard.

            “At your service, Majesty.”  The guard bowed and closed the door.

            As silence filled the round entry room, the prince continued to look at his feet and said nothing.

            “Care to explain yourself?”  Thorin was clearly not going to wait for Kili to start the conversation.  When no answer came after several long seconds, Thorin pushed on.  “You have worried your uncle Bilbo sick all day and you don’t have anything to offer him?”

            Kili’s eyes moved from Thorin to Bilbo but not to their gazes and the silence grew like a storm cloud but it did not break. 

            “Please talk to us, ighyu,” Bilbo felt as if Kili would bolt again, and no sooner had the thought crossed his mind, when Kili turned and reached for the door handle.  Thorin was quicker; he quickly placed a large, paw-like hand on the door itself to keep it closed. 

            “Kili!” Thorin growled, “Don’t make me command you, as King, to talk to us!”

            Kili turned on Thorin.  “What does  _that_ matter?!”  Kili spit out.  “Soon you won’t be king and you and Uncle Bilbo will be gone!  Why would you care anyway how I feel?!”  Kili stomped away and stood in front of the round fireplace, watching the dancing flames with his arms crossed.

            Both Thorin and Bilbo were taken back by the outburst and glanced at each other.  Not only had Kili never spoken to them in such a manner, but they both silently had to admit that it was more than just pouting.

            “Kili,” Bilbo said quietly.  “We care very much how you feel.”  This didn’t earn any response from the prince who just continued to stare into the flames.  Bilbo walked up and gently placed a hand on the prince’s elbow to turn him.  “Please just talk to us.”

            Most of the anger was gone now from Kili’s face, to be replaced by anguish.  “Why do you have to go?”  Kili’s voice was quiet and held a good deal of fear in its tone.

            “Because it’s the right decision for us,”  Thorin responded, coming to stand behind Kili.            

            Bilbo wasn’t sure that Thorin’s answer was the best one to give Kili, as the prince just looked back down at his feet and said nothing more.  Of course, he could read the young dwarf easily at this point and saw many emotions there: pain, dejection, anger, doubt, worry.  They were all there in different, shifting measures and Bilbo was reminded of the day before when Kili had been so upset at even just the thought of there being a problem with the royal pair.   Bilbo thought he might know the issue plaguing the prince.

            “Kili,” Bilbo said, taking both of young dwarf’s hands in his own.  “Are you angry because we are leaving?”  Kili shifted his eyes but didn’t meet Bilbo’s gaze.   “Or are you angry because we would be leaving  _you_?”

            His last question rewarded Bilbo with a direct look from the prince and all he suspected was confirmed in the watery glint in Kili’s eyes.

            “I will have nothing when you are gone!”  Kili wailed.

            “That is not true!”  Bilbo replied.  “You are very much loved by everyone!”

            “No, I am not needed anywhere!”  Kili’s tears did fall now.  “Fili barely sees me now as it is, what with his family and those few duties that are his.  When he is king it will be even worse!”

            “There are your nephews,” Thorin offered.  “They require your attention greatly.”

            “Thrain is starting training in just a few weeks and then the twins will start in a few years!  They will bond with Dwalin and Balin.”

            “What about your mother, Kili?”  Bilbo said, gently.  “Don’t you think she needs you?”

            “Mother has Opal and her grandchildren to take up her time,” Kili responded to Bilbo.  “And soon there will be another!  And Opal will, I am sure, be taking over your role, which means mother will be more needed for the children then ever!”

            “What about your duties as Archer Captain?”  Thorin injected, trying to use duty as leverage.

            “An honorary position!”  Kili scoffed.  “You know as well as I do it’s the smallest regiment and very few dwarrow look at it as worthy or honorable.  They see archers as mere necessity or worse, a position only good for Elves!”

            Bilbo and Thorin exchanged glances but neither could really dispel the concern the young prince had.  It was all true that Fili had already moved away from the close relationship the two princes had when they were younger.  Dis was always with Opal or her grandchildren and those same boys would, indeed, be moving on to their weapons training and studies with the sons of Fundin.  And while Thorin had a great respect for Kili and his skills, even he could not deny that most dwarrow simply didn’t care for archers or feel them to be true warriors or fighters.

            “Your brother will need your support,” Thorin offered, “when he is king.  Will you truly abandon him when he may need you the most?”

            Kili let loose a small, hollow laugh and shook his head.  “He hasn’t needed me so far!  And he will have the council, Balin, and mother for support, not to mention his wife who is as much his right hand as Uncle Bilbo is yours!”  Kili came up to Bilbo and placed a hand on either shoulder.  “I am nothing here if you both go.” 

            Keenly aware of their relationship, Bilbo knew that if this was how Kili was feeling, he would not dismiss it.  Kili was entitled to his feelings and they were as valid as anyone else’s, even if Bilbo and Thorin didn’t see the situation the same as the prince.  There was only one other option to offer the young dwarf in Bilbo’s mind.

            “You know you are more than welcome to come with us if you want.”  Biblo said quietly as both Kili’s and Thorin’s eyes grew wide.  However, while a brilliant smile blossomed on the young dwarf’s face, Thorin quickly began to silently mouth the word  _“No!”_ repeatedly behind his nephew’s back to Bilbo, who continued to smile sweetly at Kili as he ignored his spouse.

            “Honestly, Uncle Bilbo?!”  Kili was overjoyed and as he turned to look at Thorin, the king quickly plastered a smile on his face.  Bilbo almost laughed out loud but controlled himself.

            “Of course, ighyu,” Bilbo said, releasing Kili’s hands and rubbed the prince’s upper arms gently.  “No matter where your Uncle and I are, you will always be welcomed.”  This earned Bilbo a ferocious hug from the prince.  “Now, there is some dinner left.  Go eat, but do not have the cake until you are done!  We will share that together.”

            “Okay, Uncle Bilbo!”  Kili raced off and distant clink of silverware on plate chimed back at the royal pair.

            Thorin stepped close to Bilbo and whispered, “Kili wasn’t in my plan for retirement.”  He cocked an eyebrow at his spouse.

            “Yes, I am aware of that,” Bilbo whispered back.  “But we have two years at least before we go.  He may change his mind.”

            “Or he may not.”

            “He may get to The Shire and decided after a few months to return to Erebor.”

            “ _Or he may not_.”

            Bilbo sighed, “Or he may not.  Bottom line is this – Kili will always be welcome.  I mean, there is nothing to stop him from appearing on our doorstep  _after_  we have settled at Bag End.  Would you really turn him out if he did?”

            “Of course not,” Thorin answered, sighing himself.  “It’s just I wanted to have you to myself.”  Thorin reached out gently ran the back of his hand along Bilbo’s cheek.

            “Sanâzyung,” Bilbo said, smiling back at Thorin.

            “You do realize what this all means?”  Thorin said, looking pointedly at Bilbo.

            “That he will have to have the room furthest from ours?”  Bilbo countered with a twinkle in his eye.

            “No,” Thorin said, smiling.  “We are going to be on very friendly terms with the First Shirriff, because he will be coming by regularly with complaints of Kili’s misdeeds!”    That got a laugh from Bilbo.

            “Well, I will just make sure to find out his favorite tea and desserts and have them on hand at all times!”   That got them both laughing and earned Bilbo a kiss.

            Thorin turned to the small pile of missives on the table.  “What are all these?”

            “Oh they came earlier.  I forget to tell you.”

            “Did you know you have a letter here for you?”

            “No.  I didn’t.”  Bilbo took the parchment envelope from Thorin and ripped it open.  Bilbo scanned it quickly, his lips moving as he read, and then suddenly let out a loud gasp.

            “What is it?!  What’s wrong?”  Thorin came over and made to reach for the letter.

            “It’s Primula!” Bilbo said with a wide open smile.  “She had a baby!  A little boy – Frodo!”

 

 

 

 

* * *

            In the end, it was two years and three months when King Thorin II of Erebor, relinquished his throne and together with his consort, Bilbo Baggins, and his nephew, Prince Kili, set out with a small contingent of dwarrow for their new home in The Shire. 

            So near the end of Thrimidge twenty-nine seventy-one, or thirteen seventy-one by Shire Reckoning, the town of Hobbiton saw the house under the hill, Bag End, occupied once more.  Everyone was quite taken with the former King and his nephew, who caught the eye of many a Hobbit lass – as well as a few young lads.   But most agreed that the master of the Bag End, Bilbo Baggins, while mad and cracked as he was, was the same generous soul he had been.  No one had a single complaint.

            Well, except Lobelia.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Khuz-dul Translations**    
> mizimel – jewel of jewels  
> âzyungel – love of loves  
> sanâzyung – perfect love  
> ighyu – Lesser Dove (Little Dove)  
> amagur – Bear  
> Thrimidge – fifth month of the Hobbit Calendar
> 
> \------------
> 
> Bilbo calls Kili - ighyu - because not only does Kili have a gentle heart but it started because Kili prefers dove feathers for his arrow fletching.
> 
> Bilbo calls Thorin - amagur (Bear) - for oblivious reasons (broad, muscular, hairy, ferociously protective, etc). 
> 
> \------------
> 
>  **The Council of Erebor.** **This is completely my own head canon **  
>  In ages past, when the seven clans of the Dwarrow were still small, each clan would send two representatives to a yearly gathering to discuss governing matters - these matters became the traditions that are the basis of Dwarrow Society. As those Kingdoms grew, the kingdoms came to rule themselves.
> 
> In Erebor, the ruling council is made up of fifteen members -- fourteen of which are in honor of those ancient gatherings. 
> 
> There are a total of seven pairs -- each pair of councilmen represent different areas of the Kingdom -- Merchants, Guilds, Foreign matters, Domestic matters, Military, Trade and Mines/Production. (Let it be noted that Mine Representatives and Guild Masters are not the same as the councilmen that represent those divisions). Of these pairs, one is noble birth and are granted positions based on their status (think House of Lords in the UK), while the other half of the pair is elected by the groups they represent (think House of Commons in the UK). This allows that nobles and commoner alike have a say on the council and neither has power of the other. The fifteenth, and final member and deciding vote, is the King. The King's Chief Advisor and Queen/Consort are allowed to be present and offer advice and opinions to the king - if warranted - but they have no vote or say in council decisions. (Let it be noted that the King may override any decision of the council and decide a matter strictly on his own. However, to do so it seen as extreme and often viewed in terms of tyranny.)
> 
> The King may choose to have a single adviser, the Chief Adviser, or he may have a group of advisers (think of the Cabinet to the Prime Minister or President). This cabinet is, is only for advisory purposes and has no say in law or policy making.
> 
> At the time of Thorin II Oakenshield, his company became his Cabinet and while they have no vote on council (unless they were elected by the populous and agreed to take the position), they have considerable sway with the king. Bilbo usually attends the Cabinet meetings but only rarely attends Council.


	6. Adrift - Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thorin and Bilbo have cut their ropes and are content to drift on the ocean of their lives - will The Shire prove to be a safe port?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks as always to user, whyisitclever, for invaluable services of editing and sounding board.

 

**_05 / 26 / 2971_ **

 

            If any of the inhabitants of Hobbiton were given any clues of what was to come, the day certainly did not foretell them.  A cloudless sky, soft cool breeze, and the gentle rustle of the tree leaves were as ordinary and comforting as always.  Many went about their lives, hanging wash and shopping the market and drinking at The Green Dragon.  Children ran and played in the fields, ducks quacked and swam in the lake, and there was as much laugher as there was bird-song on the wind.

            Even The Mayor and The Thain, walking and talking together as they strolled down the winding lane was not seen as anything worth more than a passing glance.  True, some did give a bit more pause when The First Shirriff hurried to catch up to them, but no more than a pause.  Clearly the three gentle-hobbits had business to discuss and it certainly wasn’t anyone’s business – nothing to gossip about anyway.

            So when the sound of hooves was heard approaching from just beyond the hill, no one even bothered to look up.  So a few riders were coming – that just meant perhaps more sales would be made at the market today or more ale sold at the pub to a few weary travelers. 

            But as the sounds grew louder and still no one came over the hill, more and more Hobbits began to slow and look up.  The hooves seemed to double and then triple in volume – _exactly how many riders are coming?_ – and then there was the crunch of wagon wheels on gravel added to the hooves – _either many wagons or they were big wagons!_ – and finally the clink and clank or metal on metal, like armor and weapons – _armor and weapons?!  In The SHIRE?!_

            Just as every last Hobbit in the market stopped and stared, the sun gleamed off the first pair of Dwarf Warriors to crest the hill.  They were followed by four more pairs, all in shining armor from head to toe and bristling with axes and swords.  These ten warriors were followed by two Dwarfs who were clearly important – one a massive, bald soldier with tattoos on his arms and head, two huge axes strapped to his back, and an elderly but serious-looking dwarf with a split beard, dressed in fine red robes riding abreast with the axe wielder.  The elder Dwarf made up for his companion’s stony expression by smiling, nodding, and giving out the occasional “Good morning.”

            Twelve Dwarrow on pony-back was quite the sight.  But it was the next two riders that not only made many drop their jaws, but stilled even the children playing.  A silver-haired dwarf with full beard and dressed in dark blue and silver finery rode with a confidence and an aura that struck awe into the hearts of all who looked upon him.   His hair was free except for two thick braids that framed his face, and his full beard hung to the point where it barely touched his chest and had a single wide braid from his chin down the center. His mustache, while full, was kept trim and short.

            Riding next to the majestic-looking Dwarf was a Hobbit, and not just any Hobbit but Bilbo Baggins, Consort to King Thorin II of Erebor, King Under the Mountain.  Bilbo wore dove-grey breeches and a deep blue waistcoat the same color as Thorin’s tunic (it was now obvious to anyone with sense who the silver-haired Dwarf was), and a long topcoat of leather, the same color as his breeches. 

            Neither of the royal couple could ignore the wide-eyed, gaped-mouth stares of their new neighbors, so they smiled and nodded greetings to those they passed.  They sat calm and collected and rode along as if it was the most natural thing in the world for Dwarrow royalty to canter though the small hamlet. 

            Behind the pair, riding on a caramel colored mare, was a young Dwarf.  He wore Ranger-like archer’s clothing and had an air of cheekiness about him.  He too smiled and nodded at those he passed but offered winks and a few raised eyebrows to the young lasses – and lads – who caught his eye. 

            Finally, three large and sturdy covered wagons brought up the rear and these were manned by a pair of Dwarrow each.

            Slowly the procession wound its way through Hobbiton and came to a halt outside the gate of Bag End.  The Mayor, Thain and Shirriff were all there to greet Bilbo and Thorin, while many Hobbits had commenced to follow the caravan as it passed through the village.

            As the travelers dismounted, Bilbo immediately greeted his cousin, Ferumbras, who had recently taken over the Thainship after his father’s death just three months prior.  Then The Mayor and First Shirriff came forth and greeted the royal pair and welcomed them all to Hobbiton.  There was some small talk but none of the three wanted to stay.  Bilbo felt terribly guilty for not inviting them in for tea and scones but of course, the pantry would be empty and there wasn’t any tea in the house at present.  However, none of the three gentle-hobbits wished to stay and knew that there would be much chaos that day.  They all gladly accepted the invitation to return in three days and have lunch.  As the three Hobbits left, they shooed away those that had followed the caravan to Bag End.

 

\-----oooooOOOOO88888OOOOOooooo-----

 

 

   
          

 

             Bilbo mounted the steps to the front door, a strange fluttering in his stomach, and so nervous his hand shook as he reached for the knob.  It was almost thirty years ago that he had run out of that door.  He had gone to chase adventure, fight a dragon and reclaim a kingdom.  But here he was returning and he brought home so much more than sacks of gold.

            The creak of the door and soft whoosh of air as it rushed into the house was familiar.  But inside, it felt stale and musty, while the smell of wood hung in the air.  The echo of his feet on the wood floors now sounded alien after the years of stone and rock around him.  Nothing was out of place – Hamfast and his wife had kept it all neat and clean.  It was like entering a memory. 

            Only Thorin followed him in as he moved into the house and stopped in the middle of the parlour.  No fire burned but there were ready logs in the hearth, the table still held all the books and papers he had left there, now neatly stacked and dusted.  Even his favorite armchair stood cold and silent right where he left it.  The only thing missing was the tick-tock of the mantel clock. 

            Well, and himself of course.

            Bilbo stood with his hands on his hips, staring into the kitchen but not seeing anything in particular, just taking it all in.  It was as silent as a tomb in the smial. 

            It was then he felt two strong arms wrap around his waist and his husband nuzzle the tip of one ear.

            “Welcome home, sanâzyung,” Thorin whispered.

            Bilbo turned in Thorin’s embrace.  “No,” he said to the perplexed Dwarf as he wrapped his own arms around Thorin’s waist as far as he could, pressing his face to the broad, warm chest he loved so much.  “Now, I’m home.”

 

 -----oooooOOOOO88888OOOOOooooo-----

 

            Soon after, there was a flurry of activity.   Bilbo opened every window to air the place out.  As he came back to the front door, already the breeze had brought in a freshness that was much needed.  Kili was directed to the spare room off the Oak Hall, which was to become his – as Bilbo had planned, it was the furthest from Bilbo and Thorin’s.  Ori and Dori were given the charge to oversee the unloading of the first two wagons which held the personal effects of the royal couple.  Any box unlabeled was to be put in the storage room until such time as it could all be unpacked and gone through. 

            Bombur, Bifur and Bofur unloaded the last wagon, which had held the provisions and cooking supplies and utensils for the trip as well as Kili’s effects.  Bombur himself was going to start preparing food in the kitchen with what they had left (Bilbo felt this was terribly improper, as a good Hobbit should cook for his guests but there was so much to do, he knew it was best to leave it to Bombur this time).  All the heavy lifting and carrying was done by the Dwarf Warriors, who were supervised by Dwalin.  Balin had been charged with supervising the entire process from the chair in the parlour. 

            As Bag End had been stuffed to the gills years ago when there were thirteen Dwarfs, one wizard and a Hobbit, there was no way they would get all twenty-one people in there this time.  So it was decided that the warriors would set up camp with the three wagons and all the ponies, except for the royal ones, in a field on the other side of Bag End.  As everything was finally in the smial and the warriors off to set up their camp, Bilbo was able to sit for five minutes and take a break.

            Bilbo changed out of his fancy traveling clothes and into lighter, cotton clothes.  Thorin did the same and removed his chainmail, armor and was down to just a tunic and shirt but left on his heavy pants and boots.

            Lunch was served, and everyone ate their fill before getting down to work.

            Balin and Thorin were directed to the comfy chairs in the main parlour and presented with cups of tea and told to “ _supervise.”_

“I feel like I should be helping,” Thorin said, sitting in Bilbo’s father’s chair as Bilbo handed him his pipe.

            “Staying out from under foot _is_ helping.”  Bilbo gave his Dwarf a quick kiss then turned to the elderly advisor.  “Balin, you can help by keeping _his majesty_ in his new throne.”  That earned Bilbo a disgruntled scowl from Thorin and a hearty chuckle from Balin.

            First thing was to make the house livable.  Long ago, Bilbo had written to Hamfast to remove all the sheets, bath linens, and his clothes to be given to those in need.    He had brought all new items from Erebor and he started unpacking those and filling linen closets and making beds.  Ori gladly unpacked the boxes in the study and took it upon himself to organize everything into what was Bilbo’s and what was Thorin’s and readied the room to be shared.  Dori helped Bilbo with what cleaning and dusting needed doing.  Kili of course was in his room unpacking and moving things around to his taste.  Bofur gladly chopped wood and brought it in to stock up multiple fireplaces and ready the home for the night.  Nori and Bifur headed out to do a bit of hunting so there would be fresh meat for the company, while Bombur cleaned up the kitchen and made a list of provisions needed for the trip back to Erebor.  Dwalin was out with the guards and going over the dos and don’ts of being in Hobbiton so as not to make a bad impression with the locals, lest it reflect poorly on Thorin and Bilbo.

            Within a few short hours, the house was readied and most of the dwarfs were in the front parlour laughing and talking.  It felt warm and comfortable and Bilbo was feeling content; the smial truly was feeling like a home again with the hustle and bustle of warm bodies and friendly chatter.  But he did want one thing and he didn’t really want to wait.

            “Well, if you will excuse me, I think I am going to down to the market before it closes,” Bilbo said, standing up and heading for the door. 

            There was a chorus of  _don’t gos_ , _wait until tomorrows_ and _what could you possibly needs_ all at once but Thorin whipped his head around and over the din, said almost too eagerly, “Do you need me to come along?”

            Bilbo held up his hands for quiet.  “I am just running down to set up deliveries for restocking the pantry and provisions for the trip back.”   He headed for the Entrance Hall and picked up his large handled basket.  But as he opened the door he turned and locked eyes with his husband.  “And yes.  I would like you to come along.”

            Thorin was up like a shot and ran for the bedroom.  He came back with a nicer tunic on and buckling Orcrist around his waist.  Bilbo was going to tell him he wouldn’t possibly need it but somehow, that would be like asking him to wear Hobbit clothes and go barefoot; he just wasn’t Thorin without the sword.

            As they were about to walk out, Kili asked, “Can I come too?”

            “No!” Bilbo and Thorin said emphatically and in unison. 

            “No, Kili,” Bilbo continued with a gentle smile, “we won’t be gone long and it will be – boring.”  He hustled Thorin out the door quick and shut it soundly.

            They were silent for a minute as they walked.  Bilbo held the basket with both hands in front of him, and moments after closing the gate he felt the gentle touch of Thorin’s hand on the small of his back.  Very discreet, and most welcomed.

            Bilbo took a deep breath of the fresh spring air as Thorin spoke.

            “Do you think they suspect,” Thorin said in a low voice, almost a whisper.

            “Of course,” Bilbo answered, nodding to Hapstred Greenholm as they passed.  “But I don’t think any of them would begrudge us a little alone time.”

            ”Almost two months on the road and zero alone time--you are lucky my hand is only on your back.”

            “You do realize that if you grab my arse in public you will cause a scandal.”

            “Who said anything about just grabbing your arse?”

            Biblo’s ears turned red as a bright blush blossomed on his cheeks.  Thorin on the other hand just moved his pinkie down a bit to tease at Bilbo’s waistband.

            The rest of the walk was enjoyable as Bilbo pointed out different people and areas in Hobbiton, as well as giving quick reviews of local stories and so forth. 

            Before they knew it, they were at the market.  Many nodded and some said hello, but clearly everyone was interested in looking at Bilbo Baggins and the silver-haired Dwarf at his side.  If anyone had an issue with Thorin’s hand on Bilbo’s back, no one mentioned it.  Or at least they didn’t dare.

            “Hello, Mister Bilbo!” said a lass with long dark hair and bright green eyes who stood behind a large booth marked ARBITER with another young lady with light brown hair and the same green eyes.

            “Hello,” Bilbo replied smiling and at a bit at a loss.

            “You don’t remember me do you?”  A knowing but amused smile played on her face.

            Bilbo took a breath and held it.  He was desperate to remember.  He exhaled and gave in.  “I’m sorry.  I don’t.  I have been away too long.”

            The girl laughed merrily and she came around the stall.  “It’s all right!  I was only twelve when you left.  Myrtle Merryweather,” she said as she embraced Bilbo warmly.

            “My goodness!”  Bilbo was stunned.  “What a fine lady you have turned into!”  Myrtle’s mother, Gammer Merryweather, had been the Market Arbiter for years.  If someone had an issue with prices or products, or needed the services of a great number of sellers all at once, the Arbiter was the person to see.

            “Oh, my sister, Gemma Greenfield,” Myrtle said, motioning to the other lass behind the counter.

            “Hello Gemma.”  Bilbo nodded to the girl who waved back with a blush on her cheeks.  Bilbo looked from Thorin to the women.  “Thorin, may I present Myrtle Merryweather and Gemma Greenfield.  Ladies, this is my spouse, Thorin Oakenshield.” 

            “At your service,” Thorin said, giving a bow to the women who both blushed and curtsied to him.

            “It’s a pleasure to meet you, your majesty.”

            “How do you do, your majesty.”

            Thorin stiffened at the greetings and Bilbo looked at Myrtle with wide eyes.  “Thank you both, but you don’t have to use any titles or such while we are here in The Shire.” 

            “Well,” Myrtle said, looking a little pained.  “I can understand, but I think you’ll find a great many here that will greet you as such.  The Mayor came through and told everyone that you were coming and we should be respectful.”

            Thorin closed his eyes and sighed.  Bilbo knew that this was the last thing either of them wanted.

            “Thorin, why don’t you look around a bit?  I am going to go over these lists with Myrtle.” 

            Thorin gave Bilbo a quick kiss on the forehead, then strolled off.  Bilbo blushed a bit and, again, if anyone had a problem, no one dared comment.  Of course, Myrtle and her sister gave Bilbo bright smiles.

            Bilbo pulled his lists and presented them to Myrtle and Gemma.  There were two lists; Bombur’s had all the food and items needed for the Dwarf’s return trip to Erebor.    Bilbo’s list was for a total restocking of his pantry.  Of course, he wouldn’t need much meat as the Dwarfs would be providing fresh meat at present.  Myrtle was so thrilled to hear this because there were a larger number of wild boars in the forest which had become a nuisance, and Bilbo agreed to talk to Dwalin and Nori about it and providing all the extra meat to the village for those who needed it.  It was decided that much of what Bilbo needed would be delivered the next day after luncheon and the remainder the day after by elevenses. 

            As the ladies added up prices and confirmed times, Bilbo took a moment to just breathe in the smells and take in the sounds of the market.  He could see Thorin just off a bit talking with Tosco Burrows, the blacksmith, and clearly making friends.  While some looked on Thorin with curiosity and wonder, for the most part, Bilbo could see that there wasn’t a snicker and sour look made behind his back.  The day was turning out perfect.

            Well, almost perfect.

            “Bilbo Baggins!” came a shrill voice from behind him. 

            Bilbo closed his eyes for a moment, took a deep breath, then plastered his most pleasant smile on his face and turned around.

            “Hello, Lobelia,” Bilbo said as evenly as possible.  “What a surprise.  Otho.”  Bilbo nodded to Lobelia’s husband who remained silent beside her, with a face that looked like someone had shoved manure under his nose and left it there.

            “We thought ourselves well rid of you,” Lobelia sneered, pointing at Bilbo with her ever-present umbrella.  “What are you doing here?”

            “It’s a pleasure to see you too,” Bilbo answered dryly.  “I have returned home to stay.”

            Now it was Lobelia’s turn to look as if she were sniffing horse dung.  “You mean to a home you shouldn’t have?  What did they do, throw you out of that quarry you were living in?”

            Bilbo could feel the blood rushing to his face in anger.  He didn’t give a damn what they thought of him, but he was not going to sit back and let them insult his husband’s homeland and, by extension, his husband.  Bilbo opened his mouth to speak but needn’t have bothered.

            “If by home,” Thorin said in his deep and rumbling voice, “you are referring to Bag End, that was left to him by his parents, lawfully, then the answer to your first question is yes.”  Thorin walked up to Bilbo’s side.  “If by ‘quarry’, you are referring to Erebor, the greatest kingdom in all of Middle Earth, then the answer to your second question is no.  Bilbo is held in great esteem by her people.”

            If his cousins’ faces became any more pinched at Thorin’s appearance, Bilbo was sure they would stick that way forever.  At least he was hoping they would.

            “Thorin,” Bilbo said as collected as possible.  “May I present my cousins, Otho Sackville-Baggins and his wife, Lobelia.”

            Neither Lobelia nor Otho extended any greeting, but then Thorin also stood still and offered no other acknowledgement of the cousins.  Bilbo was sure he was feeling a chill radiating from his spouse.

            “You are a selfish being, Bilbo Baggins!”  Lobelia shouted.  “You held on to that smial for no other reason than to be spiteful.  It should have gone to your family, but instead you just let it sit empty.”

            “It is my house to do with as I please!”  Bilbo was losing patience.  “But I guess I could have given it to Drogo and Prim.  At least they would have deserved it.”

            “Otho is your closest relative!  It should have gone to him!”

            “I would rather burn the hill down than see you two in Bag End!”  Bilbo could see Thorin look at him in surprise as Lobelia and Otho let out gasps.  Yes, for a Hobbit, it was a shocking thing to say, but Bilbo meant it truthfully.

            “You are a horrible, nasty being and not a proper Hobbit!”  Lobelia said, as if she were an authority on being proper.

            “My husband is an honorable and noble soul!”  Thorin thundered in response.  “You have no right to speak of things you know not!”

            “Stay out of it you,  _dirty_ _dwarf_ ,” Otho spat out with a look of contempt.  “We don’t want to hear about your disgustingly depraved relationship to that filthy pervert you call a husband!”

            It happened so quickly, Bilbo was almost lightheaded.  In one blink, Thorin had taken two steps forward, unsheathed Orcrist and brought the blade within a hair’s breadth from Otho’s throat.

            For several long moments there wasn’t a sound except the wind moving through the stalls.  It seemed as if even the birds had quieted as neither Thorin nor Otho made any attempt to move.  Lobelia and Otho just stood there, wide-eyed and terrified, staring at the gleaming edge of Thorin’s sword.

            “I will say this only once, little man,” Thorin growled.  “If you ever say another ill word regarding my husband or marriage, I will make your wife a widow before the last word crosses your lips.”

            Finally, Otho and Lobelia took a tentative step back and Thorin lowered the weapon a fraction.  As they continued to retreat, Orcrist came down until finally, Lobelia was clutching at Otho’s arm and Bilbo took Thorin’s free hand in his own.  It was only then that Bilbo noticed the large wet spot on the front of Otho’s trousers.  When there was a safe distance between the couples and Orcist hung at Thorin’s side, the silence was broken.

            “The First Shirriff will hear about this!” Lobelia yelled, pulling a still dazed Otho along with her.  “Threatening decent people in broad daylight is against the law!”

            Neither Bilbo nor Thorin made any response, and the Sackville-Bagginses turned tail and ran.  Finally Bilbo seemed to be able to breathe again and when they turned around, he realized that every person in the market was staring at them.  Well, at Thorin actually and Bilbo could feel Thorin stiffen at the silent market and wide-eyed stares of the Hobbits. 

            Time to leave.

            “Myrtle,” Bilbo said, quiet and low.  “We will settle the pricing tomorrow when you deliver the first batch of items.”  He got only a nod from both Myrtle and her sister but their gazes didn’t leave Thorin’s face.

            Thorin stepped up to the Arbiter’s booth and removed a money bag from his belt. “This should cover everything required,” Thorin stated quietly, as he threw the money bag onto the counter where a Dwarf size handful of gold coins spilled out onto the counter.  “Anything extra, please give to those in need.”  He then turned and walked away.

            Bilbo smiled at Myrtle and her sister and quickly ran up to walk beside his spouse.  Thorin said nothing else but continued to march towards Bag End with both hands clasped behind his back and a dark look on his face.  Bilbo was tempted to hook his hand around one of Thorin’s elbows but he thought better of it.  He wanted to kick himself for not dealing with Lobelia and Otho himself.  Now his dwarf was hurt and would become the subject of gossip and prejudice.  He should have prepared Thorin better for dealing with Lobelia and those Hobbits who lived to make outsiders miserable.  He should have been better prepared himself and now his lack of good sense had led to the one person in the entire world he didn’t want to see hurt, being hurt in the worst possible way.  He silently pledged to himself that the next time he got Lobelia in his sights, she would live to regret her and her husband’s treatment of Thorin and the ruination of what was such a beautiful day.

            As Thorin came through the front door, he continued through the entrance hall and turned left towards the west side of Bag End and their rooms.  A couple of Dwarfs gave greetings but those were ignored and as Bilbo closed the front door, dropped his basket and hung up his coat, he heard someone approach behind him.

            “Uncle Bilbo,” Kili asked, concerned.  “Is everything all right?  What happened?”

            Bilbo turned to him and only held up his hands to indicate _not now_ , then rushed off.  He found Thorin in their bedroom, sitting on the end of the bed, elbows on his knees and staring at this boots.  Bilbo shut the door and leaned back against it, waiting.

            “Thorin,” Bilbo said softly.

            Thorin didn’t look up, but his voice was heavy with emotion.  “I’m so sorry, Bilbo.”

            “You’re sorry?” Bilbo was stunned.  Angry he expected, but not _sorry_.

            “I didn’t mean to embarrass you,” Thorin looked up and his imploring expression tore at Bilbo’s heart.  “I should have been more controlled.  I should have been able to handle the sniping and rude remarks of such small-minded and narrow people.  But your cousin’s insults against you and our marriage were more than I could bear to hear.  I make no apology for the sentiment because I meant what I said.  I should have handled it differently and now I have opened you up to the scorn of your peers.  I have embarrassed you in public.  Here I am not in The Shire one day and I have ruined your standing in one brandishment of my sword.  I know you must be angry, but please forgive me.” 

            Bilbo felt cold inside.  He wanted to cry, he wanted to scream.  The pained look on Thorin’s face was making him sick and the idea that his loving husband was blaming himself, _HIMSELF_ , for the actions and words of that miserable cow and her donkey’s arse of a husband was more than Bilbo could stand.

            Oh yes, Bilbo was angry all right.

            “Now you listen to me, Thorin Oakenshield,” Bilbo said, kneeling in front of his spouse.  “Lobelia and Otho are bitter, nasty, sour people and have been for most of their lives.  They feel entitled to everything and pass judgment on those they feel are beneath them.  Which I can tell you is not you or I.  And let me assure you that I could not care less for the opinions of others.  Today’s incident was not your fault.”  Bilbo saw his words were having little impact on Thorin’s emotions.

            “I just feel like I have let you down.”  Thorin said, still looking a bit lost.

            “Far from it.  You held me up and you did so publicly.  Don’t you _ever_ blame yourself for defending me or our marriage.”

            Bilbo pulled Thorin into a kiss and he could feel some of the tension leave his spouse. 

            “I am sorry that you had to endure such insults yourself,”  Bilbo said.

            “What?  Filthy Dwarf?  I have been called worse,” Thorin replied with a smirk.  “In fact, I think you called me worse when we first met.”  Thorin was now turning playful and his eyes were beginning to brighten.

            Bilbo wasn’t sure he was ready to be playful.  “Maybe, but never with poison behind the words.”  He was still seething inside.

            Thorin shrugged.  “I’m not a dwarf-ling, âzyungel.  You needn’t worry for me.”

            “I will always worry for you.” 

            That earned Bilbo another kiss and now his own tension began to ebb.  But not completely.

            “Oh, just you wait,” Bilbo said between clenched teeth.  “When I see Lobelia, I am going to take that umbrella of hers and shove it right up her –”

            There was a knock at the door.  “Uncle Bilbo?”

            “Yes, Kili?”  Bilbo tried to not sound annoyed.

            “I’m sorry to bother you, Uncle.”  Kili sounded very hesitant.

            “What do you need, ighyu” 

            “Well, the Shirriff is here to see Uncle Thorin.”

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Khuz-dul Translations**  
>  mizimel – jewel of jewels  
> âzyungel – love of loves  
> sanâzyung – perfect love  
> ighyu – Lesser Dove (Little Dove)  
> amagur – Bear
> 
> \------------
> 
>  **Hobbiton Market Incident**  
>  Thorin's actions in the market were seen as frightening to almost all the Hobbits present. HOWEVER, though many Hobbits viewed Bilbo and Thorin's relationship with mixed emotions (such relationships are usually kept private in the Shire, so it's almost unheard of for the couple being so open as are Bilbo and Thorin), Lobelia and Ortho's comments were nearly universally seen as distasteful and inappropriate to say the least - if not outright falsehoods. And most Hobbits, while not violent or use to bloodshed, felt that Thorin's actions were provoked and thus not his fault - Thorin was held in high regard for defending his spouse's honor. 
> 
> \------------
> 
> *** The Map of Bag End - is from Weta - Kili would have the SPARE ROOM off the Oak Hall, and BIlbo/Thorin's is the Bedroom of the West Hall. There is no Bathing Room - but I think that they will convert the old SMOKING ROOM to the bathroom


	7. Adrift - Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thorin's actions catch up to him

* * *

 

            Bilbo and Thorin walked to the Entrance Hall and found The First Shirriff, Motan Smallacre, standing there with his feathered cap in his hands and a small group of Hobbits, who looked like some of the sellers at the market, standing just outside the front door.  Bilbo had known Motan since he was a wee boy and knew his father, Bodan, to have been a good soul and a fine First Shirriff in his time. 

            Motan fiddled with his hat as Bilbo and Thorin came into view. 

            “Good evening, Mister Bilbo,” Motan said, respectfully.  “Master Oakenshield.”

            Both bid him good evening, but Bilbo stepped forward and crossed his arms across his chest.

            “What can we do for you, Motan?”  Bilbo refused to make it easy for anyone, even someone he liked, and he was not going to let anyone bully or belittle his husband without a fight.

            “I think you know why I am here, Mister Bilbo.”

            “Lobelia,” Bilbo said, trying hard not to choke over the name.

            “Yes,” Motan replied.  “I got a complaint from Mrs. Sackville-Baggins regarding an altercation in the market this afternoon.”

            There was a chorus of expletives from the surprised Dwarfs as they all crammed into the parlour archway to the Entrance Hall.  Thorin held up a hand to quiet them and while they looked incredulously at the scene in front of them, to their credit they silenced themselves.

            Thorin stepped forward and in front of Bilbo taking up a relaxed but commanding stance.  His presence seemed to fill the whole hallway and poor Motan swallowed a bit before continuing.

            “Yes, well,” Motan said, regaining some composure.  “I have Otho and Lobelia’s statements and I have spoken with most of the sellers who were witnesses.”  Motan gestured to the group standing behind him on the front doorstep.  “I just have a few questions for you, Master Oakenshield.”

            Bilbo moved to Thorin’s side and slipped an arm around his waist as Thorin draped an arm around Bilbo’s shoulders.

            “Proceed, Shirriff,” Thorin commanded.

            “Right.  Were you and Mister Bilbo at the market today about an hour or so before closing?”

            “Yes.”

            “Was there an exchange between Mister Bilbo and Mrs. Sackville-Baggins?”

            “Yes.”

            “Did this exchange prompt you to intervene on your husband’s behalf?”

            “Yes.”

             There was an outburst from the Dwarfs who hadn’t heard the details and Bilbo spoke up with, “She started it!”  The Hobbits at the doorway also shouted things like, “You know all this already!” and “Oh, stop dribbling on, Motan!”

            “Enough!”  Thorin shouted over the voices and they all died down.  He leaned to Bilbo and whispered, “Please stay calm, mizimel,” and planted a kiss in Bilbo’s curls.  “Continue, Shirriff.”

            Motan cleared his throat.  “When you intervened, did Mr. Sackville-Baggins insult your person and make disparaging remarks regarding Mr. Bilbo and your marriage?”

            Thorin hesitated for a moment, not from fear, but because he knew what the reaction to his answer would be.  Finally he said, “Yes, he did.”

            It seemed like the entire hill shook from the explosion of outrage that came from the Dwarfs.  Dwalin turned an ugly shade of purple and swore loudly in Khuzdul.  Bifur was also swearing and making threatening gestures in Iglishmêk.   Most were shouting questions, wanting to know what was said and offering to maim the responsible party themselves on Bilbo and Thorin’s behalf.  This all led to more yelling from the sellers who demanded that Motan finish with it.

            “SILENCE!”  Everyone promptly followed Thorin’s command and the smial quieted once more.

            Motan breathed out and looked directly at Thorin.  “Thank you.  Now, from what Mrs. Sackville-Baggins has said, you made a remark inferring that you would cause bodily harm to her husband if he said anything again regarding your husband or your marriage.”

            “Yes,” Thorin said with a small nod.

            “In fact, from what witnesses have said, your exact words were, and I quote, ‘I will make your wife a widow before the last word crosses your lips.’  Is that right?”

            Thorin raised his head just a bit to seem taller.  “That is correct.”

            There were murmurs of agreement from the Dwarfs and someone, it sounded like it was Ori, said “Damn right,” which just earned more agreements and nods from the Dwarfs.

            Motan sighed and looked at Bilbo and then back to Thorin.  “That leaves me with one final question, Master Oakenshield.  Was your comment a threat or a promise?”

            Thorin’s brow knit and he wore a look of confusion on his face, as did most of the Dwarfs within Bilbo’s field of vision.  Bilbo on the other hand covered his growing smile behind his hand and realized the game that was being played.

            Of course Motan would have to investigate any complaint made, no matter how ridiculous it was and regardless of the source.  Bilbo was convinced now that Lobelia had totally incriminated herself and Motan’s being here was only a matter of procedure.  Sadly, Thorin wasn’t cottoning on to the joke.

            “I don’t understand?” Thorin asked, perplexed.

            “Was your declaration,” Motan said slowly.  “A threat or a promise?”

            Thorin looked at Bilbo clearly hoping for an explanation for some sort, any sort.  But Bilbo was on the verge of laughing. 

            Finally he decided to help his husband out.  “Amagur, do Dwarfs make empty threats?”  Bilbo asked sweetly.

            “Certainly not!”  Thorin looked offended at the suggestion.  “That is a hallmark of the Elves!  No honorable Dwarf would be so low!”

            “So, if Otho were to make any more remarks about me or us, --”

            A spark went off in Thorin’s eyes and he got the idea.  He turned to Motan.  “I made no threat to Otho Sackville-Baggins.  I made a promise to defend my husband.”

            Motan smiled and a few of the ladies behind him giggled.  “Well then,” the Shirriff said, put his hat on and looking at Thorin a bright, innocent-looking expression.  “I certainly can’t arrest you for making promises in public.  Now can I?” 

            All the Hobbits at the door started laughing or giggling, and Bilbo step forward and gave Motan a hug.  “I am so sorry you had to come out here for Lobelia’s nonsense,” Bilbo said kindly.

            “Don’t think on it, Bilbo,” Motan answered, “I am just sorry that your first day back had to involve Lobelia.”  Motan turned to Thorin.  “Master Oakenshield, a pleasure to see you again.  And, uhm, welcome to The Shire,” Motan added the last with a touch of amused irony that Thorin got loud and clear.

            As Motan left, the Hobbits at the door, led by Myrtle Merryweather, stepped inside.  There were six Hobbits in all, but Bilbo only recognized three others besides Myrtle; Tosco Burrows, the blacksmith, Rosemary Waterfield, the local potter, and Asphodel Brownfoot, the top prize winning potato-grower in all The Shire.  Bilbo was a bit confused as to their purpose, he just thought they were curious and had followed the Shirriff to Bag End to see the outcome.

            “Master Oakenshield,” Myrtle said, clearly the leader of the group.  “We would like to talk to you.”

            Bilbo returned to Thorin’s side and waited.  Honestly, he was clueless as to why they were looking so intensely at his husband.  He took Thorin’s hand to give silent support while they waited and Thorin just nodded his head for Myrtle to continue.

            “Did you or did you not send a giant chest of gold to The Shire?”

            Thorin and Bilbo exchanged glances and Bilbo suddenly remembered Thorin telling him about a chest he had sent years ago as payment for Bag End’s continued protection against Lobelia’s attempts at procuring the smial.

            “I did send a chest,” Thorin said slowly.  “To the Mayor, many years ago.  It was hardly giant, not by Dwarf standards anyway.”

            “I knew it!”  Asphodel crowed.  “I told you didn’t I?  As soon as I saw them coins!”

            “So the rumors are true!”  Tosco said, a bit stunned.

            “Have you any idea what you’ve done?”  Myrtle asked, staring at the Dwarf as if she had only just met him.

            “I am at a loss,” Thorin replied, glancing at Bilbo wondering if he had a clue.

            “There is a locked door in the Mayor’s office in Michel Delving.  For years, the rumor was that there was a chest of gold behind it but no Mayor has ever said and former Mayors have been sworn to secrecy.  However, whenever a Hobbit or family is impecunious, they are given a small money bag of gold coins and are told that no repayment is needed.  It wasn’t until this morning when you gave me your coins as payment for Mister Bilbo’s deliveries that we noticed they were the same coins as the ones given out to those souls who are in need.  And in fact, you said that very thing, ‘Anything extra, please give to those in need.’”

            “The chest I sent was for Master Gamgee and the Mayor,” Thorin said, “for their continued watch over Bag End.  And I desired that whatever was not needed should go to those less fortunate.  That is just the Hobbit way.  As least, my Hobbit’s.”  Thorin looked at Bilbo and gave him a smile. 

            “My old Gaffer,” Rosemary said with a watery voice.  “Got sick with an illness of Men and the healer in Bree wouldn’t come unless we paid him in gold.  Thanks to your coins, he got well.”

            “I had an accident with my forge,” Tosco added.  “My workshop and smial burned down.  Thanks to you though, I was still able to support my family as we rebuilt.”

            “Eight years ago, we had a Fell Winter,” Myrtle said, her voice a little tight.  “It wasn’t as bad as some, but most families lost all their crops and the sellers in Bree wanted double the price for their food, even knowing we were hit hard.  Your gold made sure that for the first time in Shire Records, we had a Fell Winter were we didn’t lose a single Hobbit to starvation.

            “I think you will find that there are a great many Hobbits who have benefited from your gift.”

            Thorin was speechless.  He looked at Bilbo and saw a tear run down his cheek and he reached to wipe it away, not sure what else to do with himself.  Myrtle came up to him at that point, reached into her pocket and removed the money bag that Thorin had given to her earlier in the day.  She gentle but firmly pressed it back into his hand.

            “I can’t take this!”  Thorin protested and attempted to give it back.  “An honorable Dwarf pays his debts.”

            Myrtle shook her head and refused to take the bag.  “You have already paid for your debts, Master Oakenshield.  A hundred times over.”  The other hobbits with her all nodded, gave their good-byes and turned to leave.  As the door was closing, those inside could just hear Asphodel Brownfoot say, “That bitch Lobellia better find someone else to sell her taters!  She’s not getting any of mine!”

            Bilbo started laughing, but Thorin on the other hand looked a bit put out.  And the other Dwarfs now streamed into the Entrance Hall and bombarded Thorin and Bilbo with questions.  Thorin just held up his hands and asked for peace before turning to Bilbo.

            “What was that all about?”  Thorin asked. 

            “Oh, my love,” Bilbo said.  “Let’s not worry about it all now.  Dori?  Bombur?”  Both Dwarfs answered Bilbo’s call.  “I think it’s time for tea and then we can worry about dinner in a bit.”

            As most headed back to the parlour, and Dori and Bombur headed towards the kitchen, Bilbo pulled Thorin down for a quick kiss.

            “I just want to say how proud I am of you,” Bilbo said softly as he pulled back.

            “What did I do?”  Thorin asked.

            “Helping others is a great sign of respectability in The Shire.  And to think, I actually complained when you told me you sent that chest.  Seems I was wrong.”

            Thorin looked a little sheepish.  “It wasn’t much, really.”

            “Maybe,” Bilbo whispered, gazing up at Thorin through his lashes.  “But all I can say is, I know a Dwarf who is going to get lucky tonight.”

            That got Thorin’s full and undivided attention.

            “Very lucky.”  Bilbo said as he turned and walked towards the kitchen.

            Thorin was glad the whole incident was over but at that moment, he would gladly have done it all over again.

            “Ew.” 

Thorin turned and leveled a glare at his nephew leaning against the wall behind him.  “Aren’t you two a little old for that?” Kili said with a smirk.

            “I HEARD THAT!” shouted Bilbo from down the hall.

            And when Kili turned away to snicker, the back of one of Thorin’s hands made full contact with the back of Kili’s head.

 

 -----oooooOOOOO88888OOOOOooooo-----

  

            “I have to be honest,” Thorin said, sitting in bed.  “This has to be the strangest day I’ve lived.”

            “Not counting the day,” Bilbo quipped while undoing Thorin’s braids, “we escaped the Mirkwood dungeons, hid in wine barrels, floated down to Lake Town only to be covered in fish and then had to climb up out of a toilet?”

            Thorin thought about it a moment or two.  “Okay, barring that day.”

            “Personally,” Bilbo said as he pulled Thorin’s hair back into a single braid, “I think it’s been a perfectly normal day for The Shire.”

            “Please tell me you jest.”

            Bilbo just gave a little giggle.

            “All things being equal,” Thorin continued.  “If we never run into your cousins again, I will be a very happy Dwarf.”

            “Don’t hold your breath on that, amagur,” Bilbo said dryly.

            “Again, tell me you are jesting.”

            “Sadly, this time, no,” Bilbo said tying off Thorin’s braid.  “We can do our best, but there is no way for total avoidance.”

            Thorin groaned under his breath, which earned him a Hobbit in his lap.  Bilbo straddled Thorin and ran his hands through the thick pelt of silver chest hair, which reminded him of the color of moonlit mithril.  He marveled at his husband, who, despite his age, was still muscularly stout, but trim.  Bilbo had always been softer, but this didn’t seem to be minded and in fact, Thorin had made many comments and compliments on Bilbo’s ‘appealingly ample’ backside. 

            “Let’s forget all about those people,” Bilbo quietly, leaning in to kiss Thorin’s cheeks.  “Let’s talk about my hero husband instead.”

            Thorin rolled his eyes and huffed.  “It was one small chest.”

            “Small chest?”  Bilbo said sarcastically.  “Amagur, didn’t you tell me it took four dwarrow warriors to carry it?”

            “Six,” Thorin said.  “And that was to lift it.  They had to empty out about a third for them to actually carry it.”

            Bilbo gave a incredulous chuckle.  “And you call that small?”

            “It was a pittance compared to what is paid out and exchanged in a season between Erebor and Dale!  And besides, I knew that it would be many years, so I paid in advance.”

            “My love, the average Hobbit may go his whole life and never see more than a single gold coin at any one time.  Most only have cooper coins.  Believe me when I tell you, a small purse of four or five gold coins would help a family of four for months if not for a whole year.”

            Thorin sighed and shook his head.  Bilbo knew that Thorin had never truly grasped the concept that Hobbit’s viewed gold and jewels as being of little value.  But there was more than that to his dismissal of his deed.

            Bilbo understood Thorin’s reluctance to accept praise.  As king, everything Thorin did was considered simply part of his duties.  From diplomatic relations to the welfare of his people, mine operations, settling disputes, enforcing laws and pronouncing judgments and punishments, providing and ensuring food, shelter and protection, even education of the young, all of it was just part of what was expected.  The matter of the Shire’s chest of gold was one more part of his duty both to his husband and as merely an obligation to pay his debts.

            Yes, they had both lived in one the finest apartment in the mountain.  Yes, they wanted for very little and had the best that the kingdom could offer as far as comforts.  But this was viewed not as avarice nor even demanded as payment, but simply the product of Thorin’s kingship and their positions. 

            Thorin was as unconcerned with rewards for his endeavors and achievements as Bilbo was of gold and precious stones.  Thorin didn’t bask in adulation for his grand accomplishments, let alone the mundane ones.

            But of course, Bilbo was also aware that for the Hobbit mothers and fathers whose children and/or families that had been helped or even saved by Thorin’s ‘small chest of gold,’ it was much more than a simple token or onus.

            There was no way around it, Bilbo could neither make Thorin see what he had done, nor could he get the Hobbits to forget about it.  Bilbo realized it would be a fruitless battle to wage either way and hoped at some point, things would settle down and Thorin would be viewed as just another citizen of the Shire.

            At least, that was the fantasy and Bilbo wasn’t going to let it go.

            At present, his real concern was for his husband, and in light of all that that had happened today, Bilbo wanted Thorin to have exactly what he deserved.

            Bilbo gently ran his hands over Thorin’s hair, leaning down to place a kiss on his forehead, his temples and then his cheeks, all the while Thorin began running his fingers along Bilbo’s thighs and making little circles on his smooth skin.  When their mouth met, the kiss was warm and the familiarity of the touch only made it more intimate and tender. 

            Thorin slowly brought his hands on Bilbo’s back to his shoulders and then gently turned them both so Bilbo lay on the bed under him.  Now Thorin could glide one hand along Bilbo’s side and ghost over his hip to the back of his thigh, drawing that leg up so Bilbo wrapped it around Thorin’s waist.

            “I love you, âzyungel,” Bilbo whispered as he gently ran his smooth cheek along the soft top of Thorin’s beard.

            “I must confess,” Thorin whispered in reply, “that at this moment, sanâzyung, ‘love’ is not correct.”

            Bilbo gave his husband a soft, perplexed look.

            “Love is a child’s word to how I feel for you.”  Thorin peppered Bilbo’s neck with gentle kisses.

            “How is it you can still make me melt with just a few well-chosen words?”

            Thorin pulled back, smiled and looked directly into Bilbo’s eyes to swim in them.  “Because, you are more precious than gold to me and my heart burns for you like a forge.”

            Bilbo found it quite easy to surrender at that point.

            They moved in slow, fluid motions.  Long gone was the raging heat that had consumed them in their early years.  No longer the hurried, uncontrolled ardor or the unbridled sexual verve, their movements were second nature; each knew the other’s body as well as they did their own.  Each was aware of what the other needed and craved.  Thorin teasing Bilbo’s neck and ears with whisper-soft kisses that would elicit the hitched breaths and low moans he loved so much.  Bilbo’s fingertips tracing along Thorin’s granite-like muscles in his shoulders and arms, while gently rubbing the soles of his feet along the back of Thorin’s knees and calves, all to bring out the deep, purr-like growls that only spurred his husband on further.

            At some point – because Bilbo never could judge time when he was in Thorin’s arms – they rolled over.  Bilbo loved being over Thorin, not for domination or any sense of control, but it allowed him to roll his hips back and forth, gliding their erections against each other’s.  It also allowed Thorin free and easy access to Bilbo’s entrance. 

            There was a moment when all actions reached a zenith and instinctively, Bilbo reached for the small vial of oil that was near the bedside.  No urging or asking was needed at this stage, it was a given and once Bilbo had made sure Thorin and himself were slicked and ready, only one hand was needed to guide Thorin to the right spot.  For the briefest of moments there was pressure and then Thorin’s sword found Bilbo’s sheath. 

            Bilbo reached with both hands and steadied himself against the headboard, while lifting his hips to give his husband room to move.  Thorin placed his callused, brawny hands on Bilbo’s hips and began the slow thrusts upward.  Bilbo would catch his breath each time Thorin hit his sweet spot and Thorin slowly rolled himself upward to catch Bilbo’s nipples with his mouth and suckle them until they were tender and erect.

            Bilbo’s breathing began to get shallow and Thorin took that as a sign that his One was getting close.  Taking a hand, Thorin encircled Bilbo’s shaft and just the firmness in his palm made Thorin’s member enlarge and throb. 

            “Thorin, please,” Bilbo said, near breathlessly between strokes.

            “Tell me, Bilbo,” Thorin whispered back.  “What do you want?”

            “I can’t hold back much longer.”

            “Then don’t.  Let go, mizimel.” 

            Thorin gave a few quicker, firmer strokes and Bilbo moaned out his orgasm.  The sound and scent of Bilbo’s release was enough for Thorin and he followed suit with a groan and a deep thrust to unload himself. 

            Bilbo slowly caught his breath then rolled to one side, sprawling out while Thorin turned and ran his nose along Bilbo’s cheek.

            “Not bad for an old man, was it?  Thorin asked quietly.

            “You aren’t old,” Bilbo said as his breath evened out.

            “I wasn’t talking about me.” Thorin teased.

            “You insufferable Dwarf,” Bilbo said which made them both chuckle.  “Just shut up and kiss me.”

            Thorin had no choice but to obey.  But then, that had really been the plan all along.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Khuz-dul Translations**  
>  mizimel – jewel of jewels  
> âzyung - love  
> âzyungel – love of loves  
> sanâzyung – perfect love  
> mahzâyung – to make love  
> ighyu – Lesser Dove (Little Dove)  
> amagur – (my) Bear  
> akhùthuzh – eternal


	8. Family - Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Family is how you define it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merci Beaucoup to user WHYISITCLEVER for invaluable editing and sounding board!

 

 

_**5 / 27 / 2971** _

            It was the smell of sausages and Bilbo’s griddlecakes that finally woke Thorin up.  His dreams had been filled with the previous night’s lovemaking and frankly, he didn’t really want to let that go – particularly after the previous day’s ‘Lobelia incident,’ as Bilbo called it. 

            He vaguely remembered waking up at one point, rolling over and gathering his husband’s pillow into his arms and breathing deeply before drifting back to sleep, but it was truly the scent of breakfast that finally chased the sleepy fog from his mind.

            Reaching for his pants, shirt and boots, he heard the distance knock of someone at the front door.  He undid his braid, letting his hair hang free, then stood up to look at the mantel clock; eight fifty-two.  He was right on time for second breakfast, or as Thorin called it, the first meal of the day.  He still laughed to himself after all these years about how Bilbo’s stomach had a completely different schedule than the rest of the world.  Not counting other Hobbits of course.

            As he passed through the study and into the hall, he heard the front door close and the telltale patter of his love’s feet on the polished floor.

            “Good morning,” Thorin said, seeing Bilbo coming down the hall towards him.  “What have you got there?”

            “A little treat from one of your admirers,” Bilbo quipped with a small smile.  He was carrying a huge platter of cookies and headed into the dining room.

            Confused, Thorin followed, only to freeze on the threshold.  The dining table was groaning under the weight of what looked like a feast of The Shire’s best offers.  There were pies, cobblers and breads of various kinds – pumpkin, apple, blueberry, and cherry; plates of muffins, rolls, scones and crumpets and bottles of wine and jugs of juices.  There were sacks of potatoes, onions, and peppers, as well as bunches of cauliflower, broccoli, and asparagus alongside baskets of peas, cucumbers and tomatoes.   Mixed amongst them were platters of sausages and meats – ham, chicken, boar and what appeared to venison – all smoked and ready to eat.

            “What in the name of Mahal’s hairy ass is all _this_ about?!”

            “Clearly Myrtle and her cohorts didn’t waste any time in telling anyone, and probably everyone, about you being the secret benefactor of the needy. There has been a steady stream of Hobbits are the door since seven.”

            “Oh for the love of –,” Thorin hung his head.  “This is not what I wanted to happen!   It is no large matter – I wish they would just let it go!”

            Bilbo put the plate on the table with a bit more force than he intended, but it was enough to get Thorin’s attention.

            “My love,” Bilbo said with a sigh and a huff.  “I understand and respect your position.  Truly I do.  But you really only have two choices here. You can march to the door after each knock, insist that what you did was meaningless, thereby implying that the person’s family or child is of little concern to you, refuse their gifts, which would offend and/or hurt the giver, and then close the door on them.  This would make you go from savior to pariah in no time flat. Or, you could politely accept whatever is offered, thank them for their thoughtfulness, tell them you are glad to have helped and make friends with your neighbors. The choice is completely up to you.”

            Thorin chewed on the advice for a minute or so before letting out a sigh of his own.  “So, which choice do you think I should pick?”

            Bilbo just looked at him like he had donned a pink tutu and stated that he would dance in the spring festival.  Until he noticed the way Thorin was failing to hide his smirk.

            Bilbo gave a chuckle and shook his head.  “Cheeky Dwarf!”  He then proceeded to give his husband a kiss just as Kili rounded the corner.

            “Cookies!”  Kili’s eyes were as wide as dinner plates.

            “Oh no you don’t!”  Bilbo said, slapping the prince’s hand away from the newest addition to the table.  “You will go have breakfast first!  There are eggs, griddlecakes, sausages and scones in the kitchen.  You can have treats after.”   Kili was off like a shot while there was another knock at the door.

            “Your public awaits.”  Bilbo said to Thorin, waving a hand in the direction of front door.

            Thorin made his way to the front door and saw Dwalin, Ori, Dori, and Bofur in the parlour eating breakfast.

            “Enjoying yourselves?’  Thorin quipped as he passed Dwalin.

            “You know,” Dwalin responded with a mouth full of eggs.  “I’m really gonna miss Bilbo’s cooking.”

            “I’m going to miss Bilbo, period.”  Ori said, quietly with a slightly sullen look on his face.  Dwalin put out a hand and gave his One a squeeze on the shoulder.  Ori had been slowly getting more somber over the last several days.

            Thorin walked up to the door and put on his best smile all the while muttering, “You’re welcome,” over and over in different ways.  He didn’t even realize that he was saying it out loud until he opened the door to a very familiar Hobbit.

            “One usually waits until after a ‘thank you,’” said Primula, with a little laugh, “but I will be glad to accept your welcome in the reverse order.”

            “Primula!”  Thorin shouted out, now laughing himself.  “It’s good to see you!  Where is Drogo?”

            “Right here,” Drogo said, coming up the steps.  “Just thought I’d check to see if mail was here yet for you.”

            Bilbo came into the Entrance Hall after hearing Primula’s name shouted out, and greeted his favorite cousins.  Primula carried a large container and inside was more scones and apple turnovers.  Drogo had a rucksack with half a dozen bottles of his best Shire wine and two large containers of tea.

            “What was the ‘you’re welcome’ all about?”  Primula asked Thorin.

            “We’ll explain later,” Thorin answered with a roll of his eyes.

            Bilbo noticed the bundle strapped to Primula’s front.  “Is that who I think it is?”

            “Oh yes, this is Frodo,” Primula said, undoing all the folds and pulling out a sleeping fauntling wrapped in a baby blue blanket.  “Here, hold him if you’d like, _Uncle Bilbo_.”  Primula giggled as she handed Frodo off to a smiling Bilbo.

            All the Dwarfs gathered around and stared in amazement at the tiny Hobbit.

            “Look how little he is!”

            “I’ve seen diamonds bigger than he is!”

            “He is actually quite normal-sized for a Hobbit babe.”

            “Ori was just as cute as a baby, and he was almost as tiny.”

            “Dori!”

            “Were you this beautiful, mizimel?”

            “Ori is still cute.”

            “Dwalin!”

            “I wasn’t quite this precious.”

            “Look at his fuzzy feet!  They are so adorable!”

            “Well, you’re precious to me.”

            “He’s got such tiny little toes and fingers!”

            “Keep it down you rock-heads!  You’ll wake him up!”

            Primula just looked at the burly, bearded Dwarfs cooing and making idiots of themselves over Frodo and giggled to herself.

            “You would think they never saw a baby before,” Drogo whispered to his wife.

            “Don’t worry,” Primula called out to Thorin, who had voiced the concern about waking Frodo.  “He could sleep through a barrage of Gandalf’s fireworks.  Bilbo, why not help me warm up these scones and turnovers?”

            Before Thorin could register what was happening, Bilbo pressed Frodo into his arms and scurried off to help Primula, while Drogo took the wine to the pantry.  Thorin stood there for a minute unmoving and clearly terrified.  Frodo looked like a fragile doll in his arms.  But then, as he looked down, Frodo reached out a tiny hand, took a fist full of Thorin’s beard, opened his eyes and smiled up at the Dwarf-king.

            Thorin was lost.

            There was a moment when there wasn’t anyone else around him, only little Frodo and himself.  He gingerly traced a silken cheek with a large callused finger and seemed mesmerized by the incredibly huge blue eyes that stared up at him.

            “He looks like you, Uncle,” Kili said over Thorin’s shoulder.

            “Don’t be thick!”  Thorin countered.  “He looks like Bilbo.”

            “I don’t think so,” Dwalin said.  “He has black hair, like you did and look at those blue eyes.”

            “He has Bilbo’s coloring” Thorin argued, “and look at that smile!  Pure Bilbo.”

            “I think he looks like both of you,” Ori said, looking down at Frodo.  “He could be the child you would have had.”  That brought the Dwarfs to a full stop to stare at Ori.  “I’m just – saying.”

            “What have you!”  Bofur said, rolling his eyes and pulling a face while every Dwarf, except Thorin, laughed uproariously.  That caused Frodo to let out a squeal of amusement.

            “See!” Thorin crowed.  “That’s Bilbo’s laugh all day long.”

            “What’s me all day long?”  Bilbo called from the kitchen.

            “They all think Frodo looks like me,” Thorin answered.  “But I keep telling them he looks like you!”

            Bilbo just laughed brightly in the way that Thorin loved.  “You all must’ve been dropped on your heads as children, because he looks like neither of us.  He looks like Drogo and Prim!”

            Okay, so yes, Frodo had Drogo’s dark hair and Primula’s creamy skin and bright blue eyes.  The Dwarfs were still not totally convinced but they shrugged their shoulders and let it go.  For now.

            It was at that moment that Nori came into the parlour and the word was given to head out.  Last night, Bilbo had mentioned Myrtle’s concern regarding the wild boars and, without being asked, most of the Dwarfs decided to take care of the problem.  Nori and Bifur had brought back one yesterday for dinner, but today, they would all head out on a great hunt, with the extra meat going to the butcher for smoking, and salting as well as providing Hobbiton with extra meat at a very low price.  Of course it was unsaid that those in need would get meat for free but that was neither here or there.  The Dwarfs grabbed a good deal of Prim’s scones and turnovers as they left, leaving only Thorin, Balin and Kili behind.

            Seeing how the dining table was completely full of Thorin’s gifts, the entire group went out to the garden table to eat and chat.  Drogo, Thorin and Balin fell into conversation regarding Erebor, its neighbors and politics in general, while Bilbo and Primula talked about the trip from The Lonely Mountain to Hobbiton and the incident with Otho and Lobelia.  Kili sat between the two groups and munched cookies while interacting where he saw fit in either conversation.

            Primula steered her conversation to Erebor as well and wanted to know how Dis and Opal were.  Of course, Bilbo was missing his sister-in-law and Opal very much, so was more than ready to talk of the women and his great-nephews, as well as great-niece.  Little Lili was born shortly after Thorin’s announcement of abdication and Dis and Opal of course were over the moon that they had another female.  Bilbo was proud to say the wee girl already had her three brothers and father wrapped tightly around her little finger despite not even being able to talk yet.

            As the morning continued on, Frodo remained in Thorin’s arms.  Frodo had pitched a fit when the attempt was made to move him to his mother.  Thorin, Balin and Kili were shocked at the volume and strength of Frodo’s wails, while the Hobbits simply laughed at the Dwarfs’ stunned faces.  Frankly, Primula was glad of the reprieve and Thorin made known he was more than happy to let the boy stay right where he was.

            Throughout the conversation with Prim, Bilbo kept one eye on Thorin.  The Dwarf never once broke stride in his chat but Bilbo noticed how tenderly Thorin cradled Frodo with one powerful arm and almost absentmindedly cradled Frodo’s head with the other hand and ran his fingers through the babe’s black-curled hair.  This kept Frodo soundly asleep and unmoving, obviously mesmerized by Thorin’s ministrations.

            A couple of times, however, Bilbo caught Thorin throwing him a pensive look.  Bilbo wasn’t sure what the issue was and before he could even give Thorin a questioning gaze, his husband quickly turned back to Balin and Drogo.  Bilbo knew something was off with Thorin but couldn’t put his finger on it. 

            He also noticed that Thorin looked odd.  It was while before he realized what the issue was – and he laughed at himself for taking so long.

            “Thorin?”  Bilbo said, with a small smile.  “Where are you braids?”

            “Oh,” Thorin looked genuinely surprised.  “I didn’t put them in when I got up and then there wasn’t time later.  Then Prim and Drogo came and there was Frodo, and – I just kind of forgot about them.”

            “Well, why don’t we go take care of them,” Bilbo said.  It wasn’t a question.

             “It can be done later.”

            “Why put off to later, what can be done now?” Bilbo said brightly.  “Just hand off Frodo to Prim.  I can do your braids and then you can help me with elevenses.”

            Thorin took a few long moments, before standing and attempting to give Frodo to Prim.  As before, Frodo made it quite clear he had zero intention of leaving his comfortable place and Primula just laughed.  Drogo and Balin were next but only elicited the same results.  Then he tried Kili.  Lo and behold, Frodo settled in against Kili’s shoulder and once he reached out and laid a tiny hand on Kili’s short beard, all was quiet.

            “Clearly,” Primula said with a smile, “the Durin men have the touch.  Wouldn’t you agree, Bilbo?”  Thorin and Balin tried to hide their smirks, while Kili turned bright red.  Drogo on the other hand made a sound like he had swallowed a small mouse, while his wife just raised a jaunty eyebrow to Bilbo.

            “I have no idea what you mean by that, Prim,” Bilbo said giving an innocent look that only made Primula laugh out loud.

            Once alone in their room, Bilbo had Thorin sit on the bench at the foot of the bed.  Slowly combing out Thorin’s hair and using a small amount hair oil, Bilbo separated strands to make the two heavy braids that framed Thorin’s face.  Bilbo loved these braids, not only did they make Thorin look dashing, but they also exemplified the exotic quality that drew Bilbo to him in the first place.

            Not to mention that Bilbo felt they were convenient to tug Thorin down for a kiss.  Very handy indeed.

            Thorin just sat still and didn’t say a word, but Bilbo could see a far-off look in his eyes.  He knew something was turning in that hard head of his, but for the life of him, Bilbo couldn’t figure it out.  It had been a lovely morning, full of laughter and fun.  Thorin was clearly glad to see Primula and Drogo, and obviously loved little Frodo – who wouldn’t?  But the few times he had caught Thorin looking him, there was that strange, almost wistful look on his face. 

            “Is there anything wrong?”  Bilbo asked.

            “No,” Thorin responded, quietly.  “Nothing wrong.”

            “Then why the calf-eyed looks?” Bilbo said, finishing up the first braid.

            Thorin seemed to chew on the answer for a minute, as Bilbo completed the second braid.  “It’s more – curiosity.”

            “Then what, pray tell, has you so curious, my love?”  Bilbo was done now and sat next to Thorin on the bench, hooking an arm around Thorin’s.

            “Bilbo,” Thorin said, turning to face his husband.  “Did I rob you of this life?”

            “What?” Bilbo gave a little laugh.  “Rob me of _what_ life?”

            “This.  Quiet home.  Family.  Children.”

            Bilbo laid his head on Thorin’s shoulder.  “You didn’t rob me of anything, silly dwarf.  You seem to forget that I followed you of my own free will.”

            “But if you hadn’t followed me, you might have had peace, quiet and more.”

            “I had peace and quiet before you came and I was bored to tears if I look back on it all with honesty.  I never wanted a wife or children.  I had my nieces and nephews to spoil, tell stories to and then send them home to their parents. No, I only have two regrets, sanâzyung.”

            “What are those?”

            “One, that I didn’t realized your worth the minute you walked in the door and drag you down by your braids for a kiss right then and there.  And two, I should have signed that damn contract the second it was put in my hand!”  Bilbo giggled, and that brought a smile and chuckle from Thorin.

            “Besides,” Bilbo continued, “We had peace in Erebor, you gave me a family – you shared yours with me.  Fili and Kili were like kids for us.  Kili still is!  Then Fili had children I got to love on and cuddle.  Now here we are in The Shire and Kili is here with us, which I am not complaining about, and I have a strong feeling that Frodo will be a huge part of our lives too. Did I stop you from having the same thing?”

            “No!”  Thorin was a bit taken back.  “You gave me more than I ever dreamed of.”

            “Well, you might have met a dwarrowdam, settled down, had children of your own and had a perfectly content life.”

            “Hardly!  I raised my sister-sons after if they were my own, so frankly, I always viewed them as my children.  Plus, I was one hundred and ninety-five when we started the quest.  I had no intention of starting a domestic life at that point.  That is, until I walked in your door.  No sanâzyung, you gave riches beyond the dreams of avarice.  And as for marrying a dwarrowdam, it would have been more likely for me to have a dalliance with Bombur!”

            Bilbo laughed so hard he almost fell off the bench.  “Should I tell him how close he came to being consort?”  Now Thorin was laughing.

            “Like the Arkenstone,” Thorin said with mock seriousness, “some things should remain hidden!”

 

 -----oooooOOOOO88888OOOOOooooo-----

_**10/03/2980** _

 

            “Kili!”  Bilbo shouted down the hall.  “Please come eat or we’re going to be late!”

            A door slammed and there was a pounding of heavy boots on the wooden floor as Kili came racing to the dining room.  His hair was a mess, his deep green tunic was crooked and he was trying to fasten his belt.

            Thorin just shook his head, rolled his eyes, and kept eating. 

            “You are a total mess!” Bilbo said, not really surprised.  He was prepared for this as he whipped out a brush and attacked Kili’s hair while the prince loaded his plate with food.   It took ten minutes for Bilbo to declare Kili’s hair “acceptable.”  He even talked Kili into letting him work in two braids like Thorin’s, but these were wrapped around and secured at the back of Kili’s head.  It was a good look.  “Now, when you are done, I want you to straighten your tunic and tie your belt properly.”

            “We are only going to Michel Delving!”  Kili said, between mouthfuls.  “No one there will care!”

            “I care!”  Bilbo retorted.  “I won’t have you embarrassing your Uncle by looking like some ranger from the north, out in the woods for months on end!”

            “Uncle Thorin!  Tell him no one will care!”

            “Do as your Uncle Bilbo says.”  Thorin replied throwing Kili a do-not-argue-with-me look.

            Kili huffed out a sigh, but stood up, undid his belt, pulled his tunic down neatly and straight, then retied his belt.   He sat back down and shoveled food in his face, then looked at Bilbo for acknowledgement. 

            Bilbo tried to suppress a smile but couldn’t.  He gave Kili a kiss on the top of his head and took any dirty dishes into the kitchen to wash up.  He was soon joined by Thorin who brought in his own.

            “You know,” Thorin whispered to Bilbo, “no one really is going to care about Kili’s appearance.”

            Bilbo gave his husband a long-suffering look over his shoulder.  “I know that,” Bilbo whispered in reply.  “But he is still a crown prince of Erebor, and every now and then I like to see him look the part.  Besides, this is basically an official meeting between you and The Mayor and I believe it is respectful for him and I to look our best.  Especially when you do.”

            Thorin was wearing a deep red tunic and had forgone the chainmail in place of his brigandine armor.  He had even polished it to a bright shine.  Bilbo on the other hand, had chosen very Hobbity clothes; dark tan breeches, with butter-yellow waistcoat with gold buttons and embroidery.  He planned to wear a slightly flared long-coat in forest green – despite the fact that most Hobbits wore shorter jackets.  Bilbo had gotten used to this style while in Erebor.  He was practically a model of a respectable, honorable Hobbit – although most thought him as Mad Baggins of Bag End.  Of course, his longish hair – shocking to most Hobbits at shoulder length– with a single braid behind his right ear probably didn’t help, but he wore it for his husband who had made and presented the copper and gold bead at the end as one of his courting gifts.

            Bilbo was convinced that going “in style” was a good thing.  These trips didn’t happen that often – twice a year at most – and since they were official in nature, Bilbo just wanted to represent Erebor and the Dwarfs properly.

            The Mayor often asked for Thorin’s advice regarding new contracts between The Shire and the Blue Mountain Dwarfs.  While there had always been a good relationship between the two communities in the past, The Mayor had made it clear that if Thorin was willing, he would appreciate the insight provided by the former king.

            Truth be told, both Thorin and Bilbo enjoyed these trips.  It made Thorn feel the attention given to him over the years could be justified as he was “advisor” to The Mayor.  Bilbo, meanwhile, got chances to see the capital and do some shopping at the finer establishments.  Plus, it was a great day out for them both to spend with each other and Kili – who grumbled but always ended up having a good time.

            Kili brought in his dishes.  “Thanks, Uncle Bilbo.  That was great.”  That earned Bilbo a hug from Kili, who promptly went to the parlour to wait with Thorin.  Bilbo grabbed the last of the dishes off the table, cleaned the kitchen, and was hanging up the damp dish towel when there was a knock on the door.

            “That must be Hamfast, come to get the key,” Bilbo said, taking off his apron and hanging it up.  “Will one of you get that while I get my coat and then we can be off?”

            Bilbo rushed off to the bedroom and took a quick look around to make sure he didn’t forget anything.  _Bed made.  Nothing on the floor.  Extra coin bag, just in case.  Don’t think I will take Sting, Thorin and Kili will have weapons – not that we need them._

            Bilbo put on his coat and hurried into the Entrance Hall.

            “All right,” Bilbo said, looking down as he buttoned the last button.  “I think we are ready to –”

            Bilbo stopped dead in his tracks when he looked up.  Kili was standing to one side and looked at him with a wide-eyed, pale face, while Thorin was standing stiffly with a dark expression and holding an open letter in his hands.  There was a small Hobbit boy standing at the door looking nervous and fidgety.

            “What’s going on?”  Bilbo felt a bit apprehensive.

            Thorin held his gaze for a few long seconds but didn’t answer.  He turned to the young boy at the door, handed him a single gold coin and thanked him as the boy gave a scared look to Bilbo then took off.  Thorin closed the door with one hand, the other holding tight to the note.

            “Thorin, what’s going _on_?!”  The hair on the back of Bilbo’s neck started to prickle.

            Thorin’s face was stony.  “Kili,” Thorin said, his voice deep but quiet.  “Send a raven to The Mayor.  Tell him – we, uhm – tell him anything.  Just take care of it.”

            “Yes, Uncle,” Kili said, his heavy whisper, as he took off for the small rookery at the backdoor.

            “Thorin, ple—”

            “Bilbo, I need you to come sit down.”  Thorin took Bilbo by the hand and led him into the parlour, steering him to his father’s red chair.  Bilbo’s heart was starting to beat fast, and Thorin knelt in front of his husband and placed a long kiss on the back of Bilbo’s hand before pressing it to his bearded cheek.  Thorin didn’t meet Bilbo’s gaze.

            “Thorin, I’m getting scared!”  Bilbo was starting to tremble. 

            When Thorin did look at Bilbo, his eyes were bright and watery.  “Bilbo.  Bilbo, my love.”  Another kiss on the hand then Thorin took a quick breath in.  “There’s – uhm – There’s been an accident.”

            “What do you mean, accident?”

            Thorin brought the letter up and handed it to Bilbo.  As he took it, Thorin’s now freed other hand came up and enclosed Bilbo’s hand in both of his.

            Bilbo read quickly but his mind just wasn’t taking it in.  It made no sense.  He read it again and still it was nothing but words on the paper.  It was a mistake, a game, a terrible joke and it just wasn’t funny.  Bilbo didn’t find it funny at all.  It was plainly a lie.

            “This is a hoax,” Bilbo said.  He was convinced of it.  “It’s a horrible prank.  It’s a lie.  That’s what it is.”  He didn’t realize his voice was increasing in volume and pitch.

            “It’s no lie, sanâzyung”

            “It is, I tell you!  Some stupid joke!”

            “It’s from Primula’s mother, my love.  It is no joke.”  

            “It has to be!”  Bilbo would not accept anything else.  “We just saw them!”  Frodo’s twelfth birthday party two weeks ago; they were all just at Brandy Hall, laughing and joking; Thorin and Primula swapping dirty jokes, Drogo and Bilbo discussing the torture of marriage to ridiculously good-looking spouses, and Kili, Frodo and all the young kids playing with all the toys.  They were all there, happy and content.

            “I’m so sorry, mizimel.”  Thorin’s voice was getting thicker.

            “I WON’T ACCEPT THIS!”  Bilbo couldn’t.  It was beyond him to think that he would never see Drogo and Primula again or hear their laughter or share a meal or that they were simply gone – their lives taken by the river.

            No, his heart couldn’t accept it, but deep down, he knew it was no lie.  

            He surrendered at that point and as his grief poured out of him, he was pulled into a cocooning embrace by his husband.  So overcome, Bilbo didn’t hear or feel Kili kneel behind him and wrap his own arms around both uncles, nor did Bilbo feel the tears the two dwarfs shed fall on his cheeks to mix with his own. 

 

 -----oooooOOOOO88888OOOOOooooo-----

 

 

_**10/05/2980** _

Bilbo thought there were too many people in Brandy Hall for the great smial to be so quiet.  Usually the place was a riot of noise and laughter and food and merriment with only a fraction of the people.  Sure there was conversation and the occasional laugh, but it was subdued.  It seemed unnatural for the hall to be this sedate. 

            But then, this was a most unnatural state to begin with.  To think that he would never again hug his cousins, see Drogo’s warm smile or Primula’s bright eyes, never hear their voices, or be in their presence again.  It was still too much for Bilbo to comprehend. 

            Most Hobbits celebrated those that passed and remembered them, their lives and accomplishments, with mirth and laughter.  To speed along the healing process and to make sure they are never forgotten or overlooked.   Bilbo understood all this.  It was a very Hobbit trait. 

            It even showed in how they dressed.  Hobbits wore their best clothes to a wake.  Not necessarily their brightest colors mind you, those were for weddings, birthdays and festivals.  Wakes were for your best clothes, your finest. 

            But he just couldn’t bring himself to appreciate any of these points.  He didn’t feel like celebrating or laughing.  It was all he could do to make small talk and pleasantries.  It was all too raw, too close to his heart for him find anything to celebrate.  And if Bilbo was having trouble with this, his husband was firmly set against it.

            Thorin was no Hobbit; he had no desire to “make merry over the dead” as he said.  He had no inclination to eat and make small talk.  Drink?  Oh yes, he would do that gladly, but only to dull the pain.  In fact, he put two extra braids in his hair that he intended to cut to honor Drogo and Primula and to show all his sorrow.  And when it came to his best, Thorin had worn the one thing that not only fit that description but also fit his mood and grief; his black velvet royal attire.

            Bilbo not only didn’t want his love to stand out alone from the more colorful Hobbits, but actually agreed with him.  He also wore his matching black velvet, while Kili wore somber colors as well.  However, in the end, Bilbo told Kili to wear durable clothes as it was to be his job to keep Frodo company; occupied and entertained.

            Bilbo and Thorin stood to one side of the main hall.  Others milling about and occasionally would come up and offer condolences or just a passing comment.  Most left them alone; the two couples had been a well-known group and many naturally realized that Bilbo and Thorin would be hit the hardest over Drogo and Primula’s deaths.

            Even Primula’s parents had been polite but kept their distance.  They were good people and had loved Drogo so much, so happy their Prim had found a man so worthy of her and loved her so much.

            “Is there anything I can get either you?”  Mirabella Brandybuck asked.  “Something to drink or eat?”

            “No, thank you,” Bilbo replied, giving Mirabella small smile.

            Thorin just shook his head.  He had been mostly silent since arriving, only greeting those with the shortest, simplest of answers.

            “Of course,” Mirabella acknowledged.  “We are just waiting for a couple of people from Greenfields to arrive and then we will be ready to go to the meeting hall.” 

            Brandy Hall was huge, but it could not have accommodated everyone that was due to arrive, so it had been decided to have the wake at the meeting hall in Bucklebury. 

            “How many are coming do you know?”  Bilbo asked, trying any conversation to just make the time go faster.

            “I have lost count,” Mirabella said with a sad smile.  “I actually hope that there will be enough room for everyone, let alone seating.”

            “Kili and I can stand at the back,” Thorin said quietly, almost surprising Bilbo.  “You will need as much room as possible for family.”

            It was thoughtful and Bilbo was touched by Thorin’s concern.  Even after all these years, his beloved could still surprise him with his compassion as much as he could with his bravery or fierceness.  Mirabella was clearly, equally touched.

            “That is most kind of you, Thorin,” Mirabella said, laying a gentle hand on Thorin’s arm for a moment.  “But you are family.  You and Bilbo will be in the front with us.  Kili can sit there as well, but I was hoping he wouldn’t mind staying here with Frodo.”

            Thorin’s furrowed his brow in clear confusion.  “What do you mean, ‘here with Frodo.’  Is Frodo not coming?”  The very idea was obviously disconcerting for him.

            “Of course not,” Mirabella said matter-of-factly.  “He is only twelve.  It would be horribly traumatic for him.”

            “But death is part of life.”

            “True but we believe it is better for Frodo to concentrate on life, not death.”

            “Yes, but dealing with death is a lesson we must all learn.”  Thorin was starting to turn red in the face, and Bilbo was not sure what was building or where the anger was coming from, but it was mesmerizing to watch.  Mirabella, on the other hand, didn’t seem to quite so mesmerized.

            “No disrespect, Thorin, but I think that is a lesson that can wait.”

            “Death does not wait, it does not care!  Learning to cope with death is how we learn to cope with life!”

            “I will protect him from death as long as I can!”

            “YOU CANNOT PROTECT HIM FROM DEATH!  IT HAS ALREADY COME TO HIM!”

            The entire hall was quiet.  No one moved or made any attempt to enter the conversation.  Mirabella simply stared at Thorin in stunned silence.

            “If you deny him this time,” Thorin continued on, his voice hard as stone, “he will never have the chance to say good-bye to his parents.  He will forever be wanting, needing to have that final farewell, but it will never come.  By not allowing him to go, you will cause a deeper wound than that which you try to protect him from!”

              Thorin turned and made his way out of the room.  Silence remained after he was gone and Bilbo heard a door slam in the distance; Thorin had gone out to the back garden.

            Bilbo didn’t know what to do.  He had been so sure of Mirabella’s decision that he never questioned it.  It never dawned on him to question it.  Protecting Frodo had been the number one concern on everyone’s mind, even if it was not stated aloud.  But Thorin’s angry reproach made him rethink.  Was the decision to leave Frodo home the right one?  And if it was, why did it feel so terribly wrong all of a sudden?

            “He knows what he’s talking about,” someone said quietly behind Bilbo.

            “Sadly, yes,” Bilbo said aloud, turning to go to Thorin.

 

 -----oooooOOOOO88888OOOOOooooo-----

           

            Autumn flowers filled the back garden with color.  It was another life lesson that Bilbo had learned early on.  No matter what happened in life, the sun would shine, the flowers would bloom and the cycle would continue on.   But right now, the colors were almost an affront to him; mocking rather than soothing.

            Bilbo carefully walked the garden, looking for his beloved.   He was beginning to think Thorin had walked around to the front or had just walked off to be alone, when in the back corner, on a stone bench, Bilbo saw Thorin sitting with his elbows on his knees, his hair a silver curtain on either side of his face.  Bilbo hesitated, not sure if he should disturb him or not.  Someone did, but it wasn’t Bilbo.

            “Uncle Thorin,” Frodo said, coming out from the bushes to one side of the bench.  “Are you okay?” Frodo had come to stand in front of Thorin as he looked up.

            “Yes, mimelze,” Thorin said with a small smile, but his eyes were red-rimmed.  “I am well.  Where is Kili?”

            “We are playing Hide-and-Seek but he hasn’t found me yet.”

            Thorin chuckled.  “Kili was always good at hiding but had trouble with the seeking.”  Frodo giggled and moved to get on the bench at the exact same time Thorin sat back, allowing Frodo to continue directly into Thorin’s lap.  Which apparently had been the unspoken understanding between them to begin with.

            Thorin wrapped a massive arm around Frodo, protecting the Hobbit from falling or any danger of the like.

            “How are you feeling, mimelze?

            Frodo did not meet Thorin’s eyes.  “I miss my mommy and daddy,” Frodo said, almost a whisper.

            “I know you do, mimelze.” Thorin took one of Frodo’s tiny hands in his own massive one, while he gently rubbed his other slowly up and down Frodo’s back.  “And it’s all right to miss them.”

            Silence continued for several minutes.  Bilbo wasn’t sure if he should interrupt.  The whole scene tugged at his heart and his throat felt a bit tight but he didn’t want to ruin this moment between two people he loved so dearly.  It was Frodo who broke the quiet. 

            “Uncle Thorin?”  Frodo asked with a tentative tone.

            “Yes, mizimith?”

            There was hesitation before Frodo spoke.  “Tobin Bolger says that only babies cry.”  Frodo voice was small, unsure as he glanced up at Thorin.

            Thorin scowled for a moment but then his face softened.  “Then Tobin Bolger is a fool and you should not listen to his nonsense.”  Thorin’s response was a bit forceful but Frodo’s eyes widened from the words, rather than the tone.  “A wise and beautiful Hobbit taught me long ago that tears do not mean you’re weak.”

            “Uncle Bilbo?”

            Thorin smiled.  “Yes, Uncle Bilbo.”  Thorin hesitated for a minute before he continued.  “He taught me that words can speak what’s on our minds, Frodo, but tears can speak what’s in our hearts.  And our hearts should always have the last word.”

            Frodo’s composure eroded and he stood to wrap his arms around Thorin’s neck, burying his face in Thorin’s beard, his sobs barely concealed.  Thorin enclosed the little Hobbit in his powerful arms and cradled his head, swaying a just little. 

            Bilbo was positive that Frodo was feeling safe.  Yavanna herself knew Bilbo had been in that same embrace many times over his life and was familiar with the warmth and comfort of those arms.

            As Bilbo walked over to them, Thorin looked up with glassy, watery eyes. 

            “How many good-byes did you not get to say?”  Bilbo asked, Thorin’s earlier anger understood.  “How many times did your heart not get the last word?”

            Thorin’s own resolve evaporated.  “Beyond the count of grief.”  Thorin voice was thick and he closed his eyes as great tears ran down his face

            Bilbo cradled Thorin’s head to his chest as his own tears fell for his husband’s pain.  Pain that now made clear all those years that Thorin was overprotective – it was not so much that Bilbo was weak but rather the one good-bye Thorin could not bear to say.

            How long they stayed there, Bilbo couldn’t say later.  But eventually Mirabella appeared at their side.

            “It’s time to go,” Mirabella gave Bilbo and then Thorin a small smile.

            “I want to apologize for my –” Thorin started, but was stopped.

            “There is nothing to be sorry for, Thorin,” Mirabella said, softly.  “In fact, we have decided to add a chair next to you and Bilbo for Frodo if that is agreeable.”

            There was a shared moment of understanding between the two of them before Thorin answered.  “More than agreeable; it would be an honor.”

            Thorin stood, Frodo still holding on, which didn’t bother the Dwarf in the least bit.  They left the garden and met with Kili just inside, so that the four of them walked together to the meeting hall.

            In the end, the extra chair was not needed.  Frodo refused to leave Thorin’s or Bilbo’s side and it was only Thorin, whose hand was firmly grabbed, who went with Frodo to say his last good-byes to his parents.

 

 -----oooooOOOOO88888OOOOOooooo-----

_**10/19/2980** _

            Bilbo was nearly finished with There and Back Again: The Quest for Erebor, when the small clock in the study chimed four o’clock.  Putting the quill down, he stretched his arms over his head, heard and felt the satisfying pop of his back and shoulders, and decided that it was time to start tea.  Thorin had gone off to spend the day with Tosco at the forge and Kili had gone hunting near Frogmorton.

            Bilbo made his way to the kitchen and put the kettle on, before heading to the pantry.  _What to have, what to have?  I still have those muffins that Kili likes, but no shortbread.  What about scones?  Nah, had too many already today.  Oh!  There’s some apple pie left and,_ there _is that tin of biscuits I was looking for this morning!  Yes, Thorin loves those – must put those out._   Taking the muffins, pie and biscuits, he laid them on the dining room table and set out plates and cups, as well as a place setting of flatware at each place.  He knew his boys would be here any time now – if there was one thing they realized, it was that Bilbo didn’t like them to be late for tea.

            Just as the kettle came to a boil, Bilbo heard the front door open and looked over his shoulder to see Kili walking in.

            “Nothing from the hunt?”  Bilbo called out, turning back to pour the water into teapot.

            “Got some pheasants for tonight,”  Kili answered, coming to stand in the kitchen entry way.  “I have them out back and will clean them after tea.”

            “Well, I have to say, your timing is perfect.  Did you see your Uncle?”

            “Yeah, I saw him coming up the lane – he should be –”

            The front door opened again and Thorin came in, taking his boots off as he closed the door.

            “How was the hunt?”  Thorin asked, passing Kili and walking straight up to Bilbo to plant a kiss on his forehead.

            “Pheasant,” Kili repeated out loud.

            “Excellent.  I was hoping for that.”  Thorin took a bite of the apple he picked up from the kitchen table.  “I will help you clean them after tea if you would like.”

            “No worries,” Kili answered as he headed for the dining room.

            Bilbo and Thorin followed.  Bilbo poured while the other two loaded up their plates.

            “How was Tosco today?”  Bilbo sat and reached for a muffin.

            “He is better,” Thorin said.  “Finally past whatever he had.  I told him in the future not to wait until he was on his last leg to call me.  I have no issue filling in for him.”

            Bilbo just laughed.  “You know darn well, if Tosco Burrows can crawl, he shows up to work.”

            After that, Kili talked about his excursion and mentioned that he saw a few too many wild boars.  Thorin suggested getting a few other Hobbits and maybe going out for a full day to rid the forest of the pests.  Bilbo was not put off at the prospect of getting some fresh ham, certainly.

            Both Dwarfs asked Bilbo how the book was coming along.  It was almost done and Bilbo promised they could read it in a few days.

            Thorin said that Lobelia had come into the forge and complained that her new cast iron skillet was not cooking evenly and, of course, blamed Thorin and his “supposed Dwarven skills.”  Tosco promptly took the skillet, placed it on top of the small forge, fetched four eggs, broke them in the skillet and he, Thorin and Lobelia watched as each egg cooked quickly, evenly and all at the same time.  Tosco than promptly told Lobelia that clearly it wasn’t the skillet that couldn’t cook, but probably the user and then mentioned that it was actually _he_ who had made it, and if she didn’t like his wares, she was free to get her items at the blacksmith in Bree.

            As they were laughing over Lobelia’s ridiculousness, they heard the front door bang open and before they could even call out, the sound of little Hobbit feet running down the hall reached them.

            “Uncle Thorin!  Uncle Thorin!”  Was all the warning the Dwarf-king got before Frodo launched himself into his arms, nearly knocking them both to the ground.

            “Hello, mimelze,”  Thorin said, pulling back from Frodo’s hug.  “What are you doing here?”

            “We came for a little visit,” Mirabella’s answer had all of them turning to face her.  “Bilbo, I wonder if I could have a word with you and Thorin.”  There was a smile on her face but there was an air of seriousness about her tone.

            “Come on, melhekh-mim,” Kili said, taking Frodo’s hand and leading him away from the table.  “You can help me clean up the pheasants.”

            As the boys left, Bilbo offered Mirabella tea which was gladly accepted.

            “I will come to the point,” Mirabella said, looking from Bilbo to Thorin.  “We have had some problems with Frodo.”

            “What do you mean, _problems?_ ”  Thorin was put out a bit.  Frodo was a sweet and sensitive boy and he didn’t want to hear anything negative to that view.

            “In what way?”  Bilbo asked kindly.

            “He is very disobedient, contrary really – if you tell him no, he does it anyway, if you tell him yes, he will refuse.  I think if you told him the sky was blue, he would insist it was green.”

            “That’s not unusual, really, for a child his age.”  Bilbo wasn’t sure where Mirabella was heading with this.

            “It goes beyond normal or usual.  This isn’t a one time thing or even now and then.  It’s _everything, every time._ He withdraws and is secretive.  And when you try to talk to him about it, he will clam up and refuse to talk.  Last week he went almost two days without saying a single word.”

            Thorin and Bilbo exchanged glances.  This was not the boy they knew, and certainly didn’t seem like the child who had just greeted them.

            “Go on, Mirabella,” Bilbo prodded, taking a sip of tea.  “There’s more, isn’t there?”  He could just feel it.

            “He has started to have nightmares as well,” Mirabella put down her cup and looked at Thorin.  “Screaming in the night.  He won’t say what they are or talk about them in any way; just cries and demands to see you.”  Thorin was taken aback.  “Two days ago, he disappeared and we finally found him almost a mile away from The Hall, said he was going to see the two of you.”

            And there it was.   Bilbo knew exactly what Mirabella was asking.

            “You want him to stay here?”  Bilbo stated.

            “For a while, if possible,” Mirabella confirmed.  “He is going through so much and he trusts you both, particularly Thorin.”

            Bilbo knew that feeling only too well.  Thorin had been his knight in shining armor countless times and there was no one he trusted more.  Of course, Bilbo recalled the moment in the back garden between Thorin and Frodo, almost laughed to himself that he should have seen this coming even then.

            “Of course, if it’s inconvenient –” Mirabella started saying.

            “It’s not,” Thorin finished with a stern voice.  “He is welcome here for as long as he wants, whether that is two days, two years or two decades.” 

            “Well,” Bilbo said with a smirk, “the king has spoken!”  Now he really did give out a laugh and gave his husband a swift kiss on the cheek.

            That was how Frodo Baggins came to stay at Bag End with his Uncles Bilbo and Thorin and his Dwarf-cousin Kili.  His nightmares lessened, his behavior evened out, and he was as happy as a Hobbit child could be as an orphan.  Of course, with Kili and Frodo in the same house, Thorin and Bilbo grumbled it was like having Kili and Fili back together, except Thorin just couldn’t get past Frodo’s big blue-eyed stare and pouty lip when the boy wanted something or was in trouble.  Bilbo just rolled his eyes and swore that Thorin was losing his touch.

            Thorin really didn’t care.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Khuz-dul Translations**  
>  akhùthuzh – eternal  
> amagur – (my) Bear  
> âzyungel – love of loves  
> mimelze – (little one)  
> ighyu – Lesser Dove (Little Dove)  
> khad – to take instant action  
> melhekh-mim – the king that is little (little king)  
> mizimel – jewel of jewels  
> mizimith – jewel that is young  
> sanâzyung – perfect love
> 
> \------------
> 
> Frodo was 2.5 years old when Bilbo and Thorin first meet him. However, since Hobbits mature much slower than the race of Men, I figured he would still be a babe and carried around.
> 
> \------------------------
> 
> Kili calls Frodo melhekh-mim (Little King) because Frodo, even at 12, has total command of the adults around him.


	9. Family - Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A Day in the Life of the Baggins-Durins of Bag-End (this is just fluffy fun and to show how clever and protective Frodo can be)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THIS IS UNEDITED - MY BETA IS VERY BUSY. BUT I DIDN'T WANT YOU ALL TO WAIT (I HAVE BEEN GETTING EMAILS DEMANDING UPDATES! LOL)

 

 

* * *

 

**05/2981**

 

            Although he had always wanted their last years to be just them, Thorin would not trade their life for anything.  Kili had been an unplanned addition but certainly not an unwelcome one.   Frodo had been accepted with open arms and Thorin was thrilled to have a little one to – indulge.  Bilbo called it spoiling and got irritated with his husband, for some odd reason that Thorin couldn’t explain, whenever Frodo got his way over something.  Thorin offered to amend their marriage contract to include a provision forbidding spoiling of any children, adopted or otherwise, if Bilbo felt so strongly about it, but sadly, when Bilbo stated that, yes, he would like that very much, Thorin had to inform him that they had accidentally left their contract in Erebor and there could be no changes made.  Bilbo would stomp a foot, huff off complaining about Dwarfs and their “damned” contracts.  What’s a Dwarf to do?

            No, both boys had been surprises, but they added to the joy of Bag End and they had all become a family; their life together something Thorin had never dreamed he would ever have had in his life.

            And Occasionally, Thorin’s original plan for alone time with Bilbo played out beautifully; like it had this morning.

            Bilbo had suggested having elevenses as a picnic on the hill above Bag End and Thorin was more than happy to oblige.  With Kili out early and Frodo gone to the Gamgees to play, the couple had the hill to themselves and Thorin took full advantage to stretch out, place his head in his One’s lap and feel content to doze in the warmth of the spring morning.

            If he were to die now, he would be a very happy Dwarf.  Thorin took a deep breath in and reveled in all the scents that surrounded him; the grass beneath him, the remains of the picnic beside him, and the oak tree of Bag End above him.  Not to mention that distinctive fragrance that was his husband’s, Bilbo Baggins, that near indescribable scent that always reminded Thorin of baked bread, tilled earth, lavender and something beyond words that was only Bilbo.           

            Of course, he should have known better than to close his eyes.  He could feel Bilbo running his fingers through his hair and lifting his braids.  Now and then, a giggle would murmur from his husband and finally, Thorin couldn’t contain his smile or his suspicions.

            “What are you up to,” Thorin asked not opening eyes, “you mischievous imp?”

            Thorin could almost feel Bilbo’s smile as he answered.  “What makes you think I am up to anything?”  Bilbo’s voice sounded far too innocent to be so.

            “Because I know you well, Bilbo Baggins,” Thorin retorted as he opened his eyes and giving his husband a mock scowl and narrowed eyes.

            Bilbo smiled sweetly that in no way fooled his spouse.

            Thorin turned his head slightly and let loose a full bellied laugh; Bilbo had woven tiny daisies and leaves into Thorin’s braids.  Moving swiftly to his hands and knees, he pressed a kiss onto his Hobbit’s lips and was rewarded with a quick deepening and hum of satisfaction.

            “Cheeky Halfling.”

            “Insufferable Dwarf.”

            Another kiss that was firmer but more intimate than the first, Thorin was just about to pull Bilbo to him, when a small voice cut the air and caused them both to freeze.

            “You look very pretty, Uncle Thorin,” Frodo said with a sweet smile; totally clueless as to what he had interrupted.

             “Thank you, mimelze,” Thorin answered, sitting back and hoping his face was not as red as Bilbo’s.

            “How were the Gamgee’s?” Bilbo asked, straightening out his vest and attempting for all the world to not sound like he was trying to change the subject as he was.

            “Okay,” Frodo replied shrugging his shoulders.  “It was nap time for Sam.”  Which explained his coming home early, but not why he had approached from the north side of the hill.

            “Frodo,” Bilbo asked, “why did you come the back way?”

            Frodo rolled his eyes in the most put upon way, pointed towards the front of Bag End and then whispered loudly, “Aunt Lobelia.”

            The frozen looks of horror both Bilbo and Thorin wore would have been comical in any other situation.

            “What the bloody devil does she want?” Bilbo hissed angrily.

            “Did you lock the front door?” Thorin whispered back, concerned that Lobelia would just walk in.

            Bilbo looked pained.  “No!  I didn’t think we would have to put up with her today!”

            “Should have known,” Thorin said with a sneer and a low growl.  “The morning was too perfect.”

            “Frodo, would you –,” Bilbo said, turning towards the boy but stopped when he realized he wasn’t there.  “Where did he go off to?”

            Suddenly, a fierce knock on Bag End’s front door sounded over the hill, followed by Lobelia’s curt voice.  “Bilbo?!  Bilbo Baggins!  I know you’re in there!”

            Bilbo gripped Thorin’s shirt-sleeve when the Dwarf made to stand up and pulled them both down a bit more towards the ground; hoping that neither of them would be seen and that Lobelia would simply go away when no one answered the door.  However, both of them raised their brows when they heard the front door open and Frodo’s voice float up to them.

            “Good morning, Auntie Lobelia,” Frodo said, his voice dripping with sweetness.

            “I must see Bilbo,” Lobelia responded.

            “He’s not in,” Frodo stated, sounding as if he was delivery bad news to a sick friend.

            “Well, I’ll just come in and –,” Lobelia started but was halted by Frodo’s words.

            “Uncle Thorin is here though!” Frodo chirped brightly.  “He’s polishing his sword in the study.  I’ll go get him for you!”

            “No!”  Lobelia yelled out a bit too loudly in a rather strangled voice.  “No, that wouldn’t be necessary!  Just tell Bilbo that I must speak to him as soon as possible!”

            “Yes, Aunt Lobelia,” Frodo replied, “Have a good day!”

            The pair heard the front door close and Bilbo raised his head just a bit to see the top of Lobelia’s Canary yellow umbrella proceed down Bag Shot Row and away from Bag End.   Thorin was trying very hard not to laugh out loud.

            “Remind me to let Frodo have an extra piece of pie at luncheon,” Bilbo said, throwing Thorin an amused smile.

            Bilbo and Thorin started gathering the picnic up and putting everything in the basket when Frodo reappeared near them.

            “Uncle Bilbo,” Frodo said, with a slightly ashamed look on his face.  “I’m sorry but I just lied to Aunt Lobelia.”

            “You didn’t – technically lie,” Thorin replied; receiving a raised eyebrow from Bilbo.  “Uncle Bilbo wasn’t actually _in_ Bag End so you were right, and I was not _away_ , so you were right when you said that I _was there_.  And while I wasn’t in the study, polishing Orcrist, I, uhm – I had, uhm – planned – on doing that later so you were just being early in saying it.”  Thorin gave Frodo a crooked grin that earned a giggle from his precious nephew and a smile, eye roll and head shake from his husband.  As far as Thorin was concerned, that was the story and he would stand by it.

            Frodo started telling them about the Gamgees and some things he had heard there when Bilbo caught sight of Kili coming up fast and heading towards the cellar door that Frodo had just come back from.  Why he wasn’t just coming to the front was beyond him.

            “Kili, what are you –,” Bilbo called out, only to be shushed by Kili.

            “You didn’t see me!” Kili hissed out as he ducked into the cellar door.

            Bilbo exchanged a look with Thorin who was turning to look back over the hill towards the front.

            “Mahal mahagrîf udu sanserej shand khazad!” Thorin swore under his breath before looking at Bilbo to tell him, “The Shirriff is coming to pay us a visit.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

\-----oooooOOOOO88888OOOOOooooo-----

 

            Bilbo headed to the front door to greet Motan Smallacre, while Thorin went off to drag Kili out of hiding and face the Shirriff honorably.  Thorin saw Frodo follow Bilbo, and while both of them would have wanted Frodo to remain inside and away from the situation, they were both painfully aware that the more you tried to keep Frodo away, the more he was determined to be in the thick of things.  Frankly, Thorin could only be amused at the similarities between his precious nephew and a certain Hobbit-burglar that had stolen his heart.

            Thorin didn’t bother to knocking on Kili’s bedroom door.

            “What did you do?”  Thorin demanded.

            “I don’t know anything about anything!” Kili said, with wide-eyed.  “I swear!”

            “So the Shirriff is just coming by for a friendly chat?”

            “Oh – is the, uhm – Shirriff here?”  Kili was not convincing.

            Thorin threw a pointed glare at his sister-son and placed a vice-like hand on the back of Kili’s neck.  “You will face the consequences of whatever mischief you have caused with honor and dignity Kili, son of Dis!”  Thorin’s mouth stretched into something between smile and a sneer.  “Or I will show you consequences!”

            Kili winced as he let his uncle march him to Bag End’s front door.  As they past a mirror in the hallway, Thorin saw the daisies still in his braids and quickly pulled them out with his free hand.

            Thorin found Bilbo standing at the front gate speaking with Motan, while behind the Shirriff was a small group of Hobbits that Thorin surmised were a family; a couple, male and female, with what was obviously four children, two grown, a girl and a boy, a smaller boy about ten and a babe in the arms of the mother.   The eldest son, smaller children and the mother were standing to one side, while the father and oldest daughter were standing just behind the Shirriff.

            Thorin looked at Bilbo who wore a blank expression; it was cool and calm and Thorin knew that face; it was one Thorin had seen many times in their years of negotiations in Erebor.  Bilbo was not going to give away his thoughts, feelings or position at present; he was going to observe only.

            The Shirriff looked quite serious but there was something else; uncomfortable.  Whatever the problem, it was not pleasant nor was it some ridiculous nonsense like Lobelia cooked-up.  The father looked murderous and the daughter appeared to have been crying.  Thorin already had a sinking, sick feeling in his stomach. 

            The funniest thing – if anything could be called funny – was when Thorin glanced down, Frodo had his arms crossed and was staring at the oldest daughter with obvious anger on his face.  _No,_ Thorin thought, _that isn’t just anger.  He looks positively incensed!_   Thorin had seen attacking Orc’s look happier than Frodo as he leveled his gaze at the girl.  Thorin let it go for now.

            “My apologies,” Thorin said to Motan, “for not meeting you at the door.”  The Shirriff gave a quick bow of his head but said nothing else.

            “Thorin,” Bilbo said evenly, “May present Everard Diggle, his daughter Ruby, his wife, Pearl, and their eldest son, Dudo.”  Bilbo didn’t introduce the smaller children per Hobbit custom; that was for their parents to do.  This told Thorin that the oldest children were in their tweens at least.  However, he did get the younger boy's name when Frodo acknowledged the boy and called him "Ludo."

            Thorin turned to Mr. Diggle.  “Thorin, son of Thrain, and this is my nephew, Kili, son of Dis.”

            “Oh, we know who _he_ is!”  Everard spat out, glaring at Kili.  “Or should I say my daughter does!”

            _Mahal wept!_  Thorin thought.  _Save me from idiot nephews!_   It appeared that Kili had stuck his ‘arrow’ where it didn’t belong.

            “I swear!” Kili said to Everard as if reading Thorin’s thoughts.  “I never did anything with your daughter!”

            Suddenly, Everard was shouting at Kili, Ruby dissolved into loud, sobbing tears, and Pearl was doing her best to keep Ruby and her two little children calm, Bilbo was talking animatedly with Motan and through it all Thorin got the basic idea.   Ruby had told her father that Kili had taken liberties with her in the family’s back garden.  According to her, Kili had been following her around lately and last night has snuck up behind her in the darkening garden.  She said she could describe the scars on Kili’s back to prove it and that she hadn’t cried out because she was scared, even though she liked Kili. 

            Naturally, Kili denied everything and stated that it was, in fact, Ruby that had been following him about, even thought he had told her that he didn’t like her in that way; this caused Ruby to wail louder.  However, when questioned about the previous night, Kili avoided direct answers. 

            Bilbo was trying to get everyone to remain reasonable and that led to Everard turning on Bilbo and accusing him of covering up for Kili’s misdeeds.  When Thorin finally jumped into the conversation, Everard turned on him and denounced both Dwarfs as being the cause of all the problems in The Shire and stating that Hobbiton would have been better off without either of them there; not even his dog liked them!  This caused Bilbo to lose his composure and blamed Everard of making more of the situation than needed to as everyone knew tweens years were times of ‘exploration’ and accusing him of grand-standing; using the incident for his anti-Dwarf views.  Everard looked shocked and said that he had never done any such thing when he was a tween, but Bilbo quietly told Everard that he knew for a fact that was untrue and then cocked a single eyebrow at him, which caused Everard to blush deeply.  Thorin decided then and there _not_ to ask Bilbo later what _that_ was about.  Motan attempted to keep everyone calm but clearly was losing control of the situation.

            Through it all, Thorin noticed that Dudo continued to wear an unreadable expression on his face but looked at Kili intensely; in fact his eyes hadn’t left Kili the entire time the family had been there.  Frodo on the other hand had changed; his rage was still there but there was something else, like he was working out a very difficult puzzle. 

            In fact, it was Frodo who broke through the din and brought all the conversations to a halt.

            “Uncle Bilbo,” Frodo said loudly, “None of this makes sense.”

            All eyes turned to the twelve year old as Bilbo bent down to speak with him.  “Frodo, honey, why don’t you go inside.  This is really not the place for you.”

            Frodo gave Bilbo a confused look.  “Ludo’s younger than me,” Frodo replied, pointing to the Diggle’s smaller son, “and he’s here.”

            “Yes, but –,” Bilbo didn’t get to finish.

            “It just doesn’t make sense, Uncle Bilbo.  What about Mr. Diggle’s dog?”

            Now it was Bilbo’s turn to look confused.  “What are you talking about?  What about his dog?”

            “Ludo told me that his daddy never lets Mrs. Diggle or Ruby out without the dog because he’s afraid of Dwarfs.”  Mr. Diggle turned beat red as Thorin and Kili turned to start at him.

            “Yes, but –,” Bilbo was trying to work out the logic of Frodo’s train of thought.

            “Ruby said she didn’t hear Kili.”

            “Frodo, I don’t follow –,”

            “Mr. Diggle said that his dog doesn’t even like Kili.  So why didn’t the dog bark when Kili came into the garden?  Wouldn’t his barking have warned Ruby, Kili was there before he could sneak up on her?”

            “It was after hours!”  Ruby said loudly.  “It was dark!”

            “Then how could you see the scars on Kili’s back?” Frodo countered back.

            “Wait, if it was dark,” Bilbo said, his mind starting to catch up, “what were you doing out in the garden?”

            “I was – I was, uhm,” Ruby stammered, “I was gathering herbs.”

            “You said you were in the back garden,” Frodo reminded the lass.  “But the herbs are by the kitchen door – I saw them.  Your mum grows only vegetables in the back.”

            “What vegetables would you need to gather after hours in the dark?”  Thorin asked firmly.

            Ruby started looked between all the adults but had no answer, despite her mouth opening and closing.

            “And how come you saw Kili’s back scars but not his front?”  Frodo demanded.  “If he came at you, and took his shirt off, why didn’t you see the scars on his front?”

            “Can you even tell us what scars Kili has on his front?”  Bilbo asked while raising an eyebrow.

            “He has three,” a voice from the side said and everyone turned to look Dudo Diggle.  “He has an arrow scar on his right, upper chest and two long cuts from Orc daggers across his abdomen.  All of which he got in the Battle of Five Armies.”

            “How do you –.”  Everard started but didn’t finish as Dudo stepped up to Bilbo.

            “It wasn’t Ruby that met Kili last night in the garden.”  Dudo said.

            Ruby burst into tears and tore through the gate, even as her mother called her name and followed her with the younger children in tow.  All eyes were on Dudo now as he continued on with Bilbo.

            “I knew my sister was jealous because Kili was giving me attention, not her, but I never thought she would do this. 

            “She spied on us last night – that’s why she could only see Kili’s back and then she concocted this whole scheme to get Kili in trouble enough to force him to marry her; knowing that I would be – reluctant – to tell my folks.  That’s how come the dog wasn’t outside either.  Dad doesn’t make me take him when I leave.

            “When she told my dad this morning, I didn’t know what do to.  I tried to talk her out of it afterwards, but by then Dad was already off to get the Shirriff and it all just snowballed out of controlled.”

            Dudo turned and looked at Kili.  “I’m sorry Kili.  I should have said something earlier.”

            “Why didn’t you say something yourself?”  Thorin asked Kili.

            “I knew his dad didn’t like us,” Kili answered.  “I didn’t want to get Dudo in hot water.”

            “I am sorry, Mister Thorin, Mister Bilbo,” Dudo said, looking from Thorin to Bilbo.  “I honestly never thought it would all come to this.  Like you said, Mister Bilbo, the tweens are about exploration.  It was just supposed to be a bit of fun.”

            “Be that as it may,” Motan said with a stony expression.  “There are serious repercussions to falsely accusing someone of a crime!”

            Everard Diggle looked very uncomfortable and Thorin caught the unforgiving glare Bilbo was giving the Hobbit.  Honestly, Thorin was thankful his husband didn’t have Sting in his hand.

            “Can’t we let it go?”  Everyone turned quickly at Kili’s question.  “Dudo has already been embarrassed enough and I don’t want to see Ruby hurt any more than she is.”

            Motan stared at Kili as if he had never seen the Dwarf before, but there was a small upturn in the corners of his mouth.  “Are you sure about that, Kili?”

            “Yeah,” Kili replied, nodding.  “I don’t want there to be any more trouble for Dudo or Mr. and Mrs. Diggle.  Let’s just – forget it.”

            Motan shook his head but a smile appeared.  “As you wish Kili.”  The Shirriff turned to Everard.  “I hope you realize how lucky you and your family are that Kili is so forgiving.”  Mr. Diggle still looked stunned at the turn of events and didn’t answer but did nod in agreement.

            “Truly, Everard Diggle,” Bilbo started.  “You owe someone a huge apology and it better be a good one.  Or I will personally tell Lobelia about the entire situation and allow her to spread the story to the four corners of The Shire!”  That put a look of fear and horror on the farmer’s face.

            “Kili,” Everard said, looking at the Dwarf prince.  “I am very sorry to have brought this upon you this morning and I hope you will accept my sincere apology for the – misunderstanding.” 

            That word earned a huff from Bilbo and Thorin would swear later that he heard his husband say under his breath “Misunderstanding indeed”, although Bilbo denied it.

            Kili accepted Everard’s apology with grace and they shook hands.  Thorin was very proud of his nephew, although he was not happy with the misunderstanding as Diggle had called it.  But he too, recognized that putting young Dudo and Ruby, not to mention their mother, through more embarrassment was not really for the best. 

            As everyone went their separate ways and as Bilbo lead their family back inside, Thorin caught the sound of Bilbo’s name being called. 

            It was Lobelia; she was running up the hill and Bilbo quickly shoved Thorin, Kili and Frodo through the front door of Bag-End and waited for his cousin to approach.

            “Bilbo Baggins!”  Lobelia said, finally coming up the stairs to the front stoop.

            “Good Morning, Lobelia.”  Bilbo stood in the doorway, the door just open enough for him stand and block Lobelia’s view into the smial.  “What can I do for you?”

            “Are you aware of the inappropriate behavior regarding your Dwarf?”  Lobelia’s shrilled voice drifted into the hall and it was all Thorin could do not to rip open the door and deal with Lobelia himself.

            “There are two Dwarfs living here.” Bilbo said, sounding amused.  “You will need to be more specific, Lobelia,”

            “I’m talking about that ruffian you call a _nephew_!”  Thorin bristled; he could hear Lobelia’s sneer in her voice.

            “I’m afraid I have no idea what you are talking about.”  Bilbo’s tone was so innocent that Thorin could almost believed it.

            “There is a rumor going around that he took advantage of an innocent girl!”

            “Now, Lobelia,” Bilbo said as if talking to a small child.  “You know better than to listen to rumor and gossip.   Besides, if it were true, the Shirriff would have hauled Kili away and as you saw Motan leaving just now yourself, you can clearly see that isn’t the case.”

            “Then just what, pray tell, was the Shirriff doing here then?”

            “That is none of your business, Lobelia Sackville-Baggins!”  Bilbo was getting irate now.  “And if you go about spreading lies and gossip, I will make sure everyone knows that you were the one to start them!  Good day!”  And with that, Bilbo slammed the door in Lobelia’s face.

            “Bitch,” Bilbo said, crossing his arms and looking at Thorin.

            Thorin tried his best to keep his smile from spreading.  “Mizimel, weren’t you the one that just threatened Mr. Diggle with Lobelia?”

            Bilbo just rolled his eyes.  “That was totally different.  That was only a threat to make sure he apologized to Kili properly.  Calling Lobelia a bitch was just me – stating a fact.”

            Thorin couldn’t hold back and a smiled graced his face.  _Hobbits - don't get them riled up!  
_

            “Well,” Kili said lightly, “I, for one, am glad that’s all over with!”

            Thorin’s smile died quickly.  “Yes I am sure you are!  Sad though that we still must have Motan Smallacre’s favorite tea on hand!”  Kili seemed to shrink before their eyes.  “Would it be too much to ask - to wish _\- to hope -_ that for one month – _one month_ – we could go without a visit by the good Shirriff?”

            “I’m sorry, Uncle,” Kili said in a small voice.

            “Thorin,” Bilbo said quietly.  “You’re exaggerating.”

            “Perhaps,” Thorin conceded.  “But answer me truthfully, my love – do you not feel we are graced with Master Smallacre’s official presence more than the average?”

            No, was what Bilbo wanted to say, but truth be told he could not deny it.  He did feel, however, that now, when emotions were still running a bit high, was not the time to be lecturing Kili.  Apparently, so did Frodo.

            “Uncle Thorin,” Frodo said with his hands on his hips.  “This wasn’t Kili’s fault!  It was nasty girl’s fault!”  Frodo folded his arms across his chest as if the matter was settled.

            Thorin deflated at Frodo’s protectiveness.  “You are right, Frodo.  But, there is more going on here than you understand.”

            “I understand all right,” Frodo replied.  “She was trying to steal Kili away.  But she isn’t allowed to marry Kili; no one is allowed to marry Kili.”  Frodo gave a curt nod to emphasize his comment.

            It would have been an understatement to say that the adults around him understood Frodo’s comment.  Thorin simply stared, Kili looked puzzled, and Bilbo mulled over the statement before proceeding.

            “Why do you say that, my lad?”  Bilbo asked, deciding on the direct approach.

            Frodo dropped his arms, looked at the ceiling and heaved a great sigh; clearly the adults around him were dense as dirt.  “Because, silly – Kili’s going to marry me!” 

            Frodo turned and marched off leaving three very stunned, slack-jawed adults in his wake.  It was Bilbo who spoke first.  “I have a funny feeling that the conversation at luncheon is going to be very interesting."

 

\-----oooooOOOOO88888OOOOOooooo-----

 

            "Uncle Bilbo,” Frodo said between bites. “These potatoes are really good!”

            “Thank you, Frodo,” Bilbo said casually.  He shared a quick look to Thorin who simply raised an eyebrow but remained silent.  Bilbo glanced over at Kili, but the Dwarf prince kept his eyes on his plate and seemed to refuse meeting anyone’s gaze.  Anticipation sat in the dining room like an unwanted guest.

            Frodo on the other hand seemed blissfully ignorant of everything around him save for his meal; he hummed and nibbled his way through luncheon without a care in the world.

            Bilbo decided that the time had come.

            “So, tell me, Frodo,” Bilbo asked, “why do you think you and Kili are going to get married?”

            From the corner of his eye, Bilbo could see Kili turn red but continued to stare at his plate.  Thorin didn’t stop eating, but turned his eyes on the young Hobbit.

            “Because I have to marry a Dwarf.” Frodo said matter-of-factly.

            “Why is that?”  Bilbo was not sure where this was heading.

            “Because you did, Uncle Bilbo,” Frodo stated all the conviction of a done deal.

            “I did,” Bilbo replied.  “But that doesn’t mean you have to.”  Frodo looked perplexed at Bilbo’s statement.  “Don’t you think you are a little young to get married?”

            Frodo huffed, “We aren’t getting married right away!”   Obviously he thought his Uncle being foolish.  “But we will soon.”

            Kili started coughing and Thorin reached over and hit his sister-son soundly on the back several times; all the while keeping his eyes on Frodo.

            “Why soon?”  Bilbo was almost becoming amused.

            “I don’t want to wait until I am old,” Frodo said.  “Like you did.”

            Thorin tried his best to hide his smirk behind his mug of ale while Bilbo tried to project an aura of calm.  _Like you did?!_   He decided it was best to steer the conversation onward.

            “Don’t you think you might meet someone else before then?”

            “Why would I want to do that?”

            “You might meet a nice Hobbit lass and want to marry her.”

            “I can’t do that!”  Frodo laughed.  “Hobbits don’t smell right.”

            Thorin and Bilbo exchanged confused expressions before BIlbo continued on.  “What do you mean, ‘smell right?’”

            Frodo seemed to chew on that for a moment before answering.  “Well, Hobbits smell like dirt and plants.”

            “Dirt and plants.” Bilbo repeated flatly.  He saw his husband get an amused smile on his face and Bilbo remembered something that Thorin had mentioned before and reminded him again just this morning, about Bilbo smelling like tilled earth and lavender.  “I take it you don’t like dirt and plants?”

            “They’re okay,” Frodo answered.  “But Dwarfs are better.”

            “And, uhm -” Thorin asked, working hard to suppress his amusement.  “How do Dwarfs smell, mimelze?”

            “Like rocks,” Frodo replied, taking another bite of potato.

            “Rocks,” Bilbo said flatly.  _What in the WORLD is he talking about?_ Bilbo thought. _  
_

Frodo reached out and grabbed Thorin’s hand and before the Dwarf understood what was happening, Frodo pulled Thorin's arm towards him and pressed his nose to his Uncle's inner wrist, breathing deeply.  Thorin was almost shocked but sat still.

            “Uncle Thorin smells like stone,” Frodo said as he drew back and released Thorin’s hand.  “Like a great boulder left out in the sun."  Frodo took another sniff.  "But he also smells like warm moss with a little of metal and fire mixed in too.”  Frodo released Thorin's hand and returned to his food.

            “I can see that,” Bilbo commented with a smile.  This earned him a puzzled look from his husband.  “He does work at the forge now and then and he trained as a blacksmith.”

            “What do I smell like then?”  Kili asked in quiet tone.  It was the first thing he had said since Frodo’s announcement in the entry hall.

            Frodo’s eyes got wide and a smile formed on his lips.  He sprang up and ran around to Kili’s chair and pulled at his hand like he had Thorin’s.  Kili sat frozen as the young Hobbit pressed his nose to his inner wrist and breathed.

            “You smell like river rocks!”  Frodo said with an almost dreamy look in his eyes.  “Like the smooth, cool stones you find in the streams.”  Frodo took another deep sniff of Kili’s wrist before continuing.  “You also smell like the forest and trees - like fallen leaves!  You smell like the open fields and wild grasses!  You smell like sunshine and warm breezes!  You smell like – like – well, like _adventure_!”

            Kili was wide-eyed and glanced back and forth between Thorin, who looked equally nervous, and Bilbo whose smile was starting to spread.

            “That’s why I have to marry Kili!”  Frodo said as he retook his seat.  “If I don’t, I can’t go on adventures like you did, Uncle Bilbo!”

            And there it was.

            “Frodo, my boy,” Bilbo said, not containing his smile.  “You don’t have to marry Kili, or marry a Dwarf, or even _get_ married to have adventures.”  By Mahal and Yavanna, he loved his nephew so much.

            “But isn’t that why you went with thirteen Dwarfs?”  Frodo asked confused.  “So you could see which one you liked best?”

            Thorin spat out his ale and started chocking.  Kili got up started pounding on Thorin’s back until he finally caught his breath.

            Bilbo waited until his blush died down and Thorin had returned to a normal pallor before continuing on.  “It wasn’t like that Frodo.  And besides, Uncle Thorin and I didn’t marry until _after_ the adventure was over.”

            “I thought you once said, Uncle Bilbo,” Kili said with a grin and relief on his face.  “That your adventure was just _beginning_ when you married Uncle Thorin?”

            Both Bilbo and Thorin shot Kili a look of warning.  “That’s the adventure of life and we aren’t talking about that.” 

            Kili continued to wear a shit-eating grin on his face but he didn’t say anything more.  Frodo on the other hand was quietly looking at his plate in contemplation.

            “So I don’t have to marry Kili to go on adventures?”

            “No, mimelze.  You don’t.”

            “I don’t have to get married at all, if I don’t want to?”

             “No, my boy.  Not if you don’t want to.”

            Frodo nodded, obviously working it all out in his head.  “But I can still go on adventures like you did Uncle Bilbo?”

            “You most certainly can, if you want to.”  Bilbo said, but quickened to add, “But not until you are older, of course.”

            Again, Frodo nodded and took it all in.  “I am done.  May I be excused?’

            “Yes, Frodo.  Why don’t you go play.”

            “Can I have my second piece of pie with tea?”

            “Of course.”

            Frodo shot out of his chair and sprinted down the hall.  However, a few seconds later when he ran back in the dining room, ran up to Kili and threw himself into his cousin’s embrace.  “I hope you don’t mind if we don’t get married.”

            Kili gave Frodo a tight hug and threw him a toothy grin.  “It’s all right, melhekh-mim.  I will always be there for you for adventures.”

            “Yay!”  Frodo cried, releasing Kili and turning to go.  But he stopped and turned before exiting the dining room.  “Of course, we still may get married someday.  After all, you are my One!”  Frodo ran off while Kili hung his head in defeat.  Bilbo pursed his lips, crossed his arms, and glared at his husband who looked anywhere but at Bilbo.

            “You wouldn’t have happened to mention anything about _Ones_ to Frodo, perhaps?”  Bilbo raised just an eyebrow and kept his gaze squarely on the Dwarf at the other end of the table.

            “I might have – mentioned it – in passing – on occasion.” Thorin said, still not meeting his husband’s eyes.

            “Yes, well,” Bilbo said standing up and gathering the dirty dishes.  “It seems that you and I will have to be having _that talk_ with Frodo very soon.”

            Thorin now looked to Bilbo with something akin to fear.  "“How soon is very soon?"

            “Like, later tonight.” 

            Thorin sighed but nodded - resigned to his fate.

            “In the meantime though,” Bilbo said lightly.  “I will have to check the available dates for the Party Tree.  So I can plan the wedding.”

            Kili crossed his arms on the table and laid his face on them.  “Stop.  Please stop.”

            “Don’t worry, Kili,” Thorin said in mock seriousness.  “You will look very pretty with daisies in your hair.”  Thorin laughed when his sister-son just groaned.

 

 

           

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Khuz-dul Translations**  
>  Mahal mahagrîf udu sanserej shand khazad – Mahal save me from idiot Dwarrow  
> mimelze – (little one)  
> melhekh-mim – the king that is little (little king)  
> mizimel – jewel of jewels
> 
> \------------
> 
> According to canon, Samwise is not even a year old at this point. However, Frodo would most likely play with Sam’s two older brothers, Hamson and Halfred, both were just a few years older than Frodo.
> 
> \------------
> 
>  **The Son of Dis** (This is totally my head canon)  
>  Kili is introduced as the Son of Dis - most likely because Dis had a Morganatic Marriage (her husband was a commoner) and therefore, Kili would be referred to as the son of the more noble parent (in this case, his mother). 
> 
> If she had become Queen, her husband would have been viewed as King Consort by Dwarf standards, but as he was a commoner, that would be unacceptable - because if she had preceided her husband in death, he would have come to the throne. Most likely, she would have been given the choice of either A) ending the engagement and marrying someone of noble birth, or B) continuing with the marriage, but forfeiting her title of Princess and thus, removing her from the line of succession. 
> 
> ** it should be noted that even if she had married a noble and become Queen only to die before her husband, only her off spring with him would be considered in the line of succession - because if he had taken another wife, although rare, his offspring with the second wife would NOT be part of the direct line of Durin and thus automatically ineligible for the throne. 
> 
> Since her sons were declared heir by their childless uncle, Thorin Oakenshield, it would seem that Dis choose option B, and thus took her place in the succession. 
> 
> This could explain why she is often referred to as The Lady Dis, even though she is a princess by birth - just not a princess by title. This would further explain why, when Thorin and her sons died in canon, she was past over for Dain, who was a more distant relation to the direct line of Durin, even though she is a direct descendant of Durin himself.


	10. March of Time - Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time marches on but not all can follow.

**_04/15/2990_ **

            The night was warm, and there was a light breeze as Frodo slowly made his way back up to Bag End.  It was so late, but he had a good time.  He didn’t get to see Hamson and Halfred Gamgee that often anymore, even though they lived just down the road.  Both boys were busy helping their father with many of the gardens in Hobbiton and both were preparing for their own upcoming weddings.  But, there was nothing like a Highday to get out with your friends and enjoy a bit of cheer at the Green Dragon. 

            Of course, their young brother, Samwise, tried to sneak along but he was always caught his mum, Bell.  Frodo had to laugh to himself when he thought about Sam; the boy reminded him of his little cousin, Meriadoc, except Sam was not prone to mischief.  Both boys were fine young chaps and had bright smiles and good natures.  He made a mental note to introduce the two when he got a chance.

            _Dang it,_ Frodo kicked himself, _I must remember have to send a present to Paladin for the birth of his baby boy, Peregrin._

            As he approached Bag End, the only light he saw was from the Parlour, but judging from the flicker, it was only the hearth light.  _Uncle Bilbo must have stoked the fire too much; shouldn’t be this bright so far after mid-night._   He was sure that Uncle Bilbo and Uncle Thorin were long asleep.

            Frodo couldn’t keep a smile from his face at the thought of his Uncles.  They were so dear to him.  Uncle Bilbo was always quick with a smile, a joke, a parable or tale and he, of course, seemed to solve any problem with a cup of tea and a tin of biscuits.  Uncle Thorin on the other hand, was the sharp blade to the heart of any problem.  He gave out good, solid advice and made no excuse in giving blunt honesty when needed.  Most of Frodo’s friends were terrified of the former Dwarf-king and would cower at Thorin’s dark scowls and pointed looks.  That just made Frodo laugh even harder; he knew that Thorin was the softie, not Bilbo. 

            Yes, he loved them dearly.

            He also worried about them, though.  They had gotten so much … _older_ it seemed in just the last few years.  Uncle Bilbo was still spry but his hair had finally gone all grey and he was not as quick as he once was.  Uncle Thorin, always silver haired to Frodo, had slowed down and the wrinkles were more numerous.  He had even begun using a cane; which was more like a weapon as it was a long handled walking axe.  Of course, to mention any of this to Uncle Thorin would just rouse the Dwarf-king’s ire and he would swear he was still able to defend his husband and family, and don’t any dare forget it.  Uncle Thorin would never say surrender; it just made Frodo and Kili laugh.

            Kili.

            There was another one to make him smile, but for totally different reasons.  He had had such a crush on Kili when he was young.  The Dwarf was nothing like Hobbits and yet he was everything to a young Hobbit; recklessly fun, over exuberant, jovial to the point of indiscreet, brave, strong, protective and true.  Ok, so many didn’t think he was the brightest coal in the hearth, but Kili had his own way of doing things and in the end one could depend on him to get a job done.  He remembered wanting to marry the Dwarf for years – even now, the stories of Frodo announcing his intentions would elicit peals of laughter from his Uncles and turn the hairy cheeks of his cousin red.  Frodo was grown now and such childish fantasies were for the past.

            At least, that is what he told himself everyday.

            Frodo wiped his feet, unlocked the latch and slowly opened the door.  The fire in the Parlour was low but still needed to be put out.  He closed the door, holding the handle to keep the latch from clicking then locked the door.  Before he turned around however, a deep voice had him stop in his tracks.

            “Did you have a good time?”  Thorin’s voice was quiet but still carried clearly to the front entrance. 

            Frodo could see the top of Thorin’s head just over the back of the Dwarf’s chair as Frodo made is way into the Parlour.

            “Yes,” Frodo answered.  “The Gamgee’s where there as well as Ludo.”  Frodo came around to stand in front of his Uncle.  “What are you doing up so late, Uncle Thorin?”

            “Is it late?” Thorin glanced up at the mantle clock.  “I got caught up reading; guess I forgot the time.”

            “You should be in bed, Uncle.”

            “Oh, should I?”  It wasn’t a question really and Thorin was already closing his book to lay it on the small table next to him, then made to stand.

            Frodo stood by Thorin’s chair but did not offer his hand; he knew his Uncle would scoff and claim the gesture as unnecessary.  But Frodo reached for his Uncle’s walking axe and offered it to the Dwarf when he was fully standing.

            “I need to dampen the fire,” Thorin said, turning slightly towards the hearth.

            Frodo said placing a hand on Thorin’s arm to stop him.  “I’ll take care of that, Uncle.  You go to bed.”

            Thorin nodded, cupped the back of Frodo’s head with his free hand then pressed a kiss to the young Hobbit’s forehead.  “Sweet dreams, mimelze.”

            “You too, Uncle Thorin.”

            Frodo followed his uncle to the hallway and then watched as the Dwarf made his way to the bedroom.  Thorin walked straight and tall but Frodo noticed that he was leaning more on his cane than he usually did; this told him that his Uncle had been sitting far too long in his chair.  Shaking his head, Frodo returned to the front room.

            As Frodo knelt down before the fire, a quiet voice sounded off to his right.

            “You know,” Kili said, leaning against the front passage wall.  “He only waits up to make sure you get home safe.”

            Frodo gave Kili a small smile.  “I didn’t really believe that whole ‘reading a book’ story."  Frodo just sighed and shook his head; a small smile on his lips.  “I wish he would trust me.”

            “It has nothing to do with trust, sangimlel,”

            Frodo stopped for a moment.  “What did you call me?”

            “Sangimlel,” Kili said his face unreadable.

            “What does that mean?”

            Kili just shrugged.  “Just a nickname.”

            With so many Khuz-dul words thrown around, Frodo found he got dizzy half the time.  Of course, Uncle Thorin and Kili said they couldn’t teach anyone Khuz-dul because it was a secret, but Uncle Bilbo figured out a few in his time. 

            “Anyway,” Frodo continued.  “I am in my tweens now.  I don’t think he needs to worry about me.”

            “He will, _always_ worry about you.” Kili raises an eyebrow to make his point.  “And don’t kid yourself if you don’t think Uncle Bilbo isn’t the same.  I wouldn’t doubt it if he is sitting up in bed, waiting for Uncle to come in and tell him you are home.”

            “Seems so silly though.  They’re losing sleep over nothing.”

            “Maybe,” Kili replied with a chuckle.  “But it won’t ever change.”

            Frodo laughed.  “I remember my mother telling me that Uncle Bilbo and Uncle Thorin would make great parents.”  Frodo turned to Kili and gave him a small, bittersweet smile.  “She was right in the end.”

            “They only wait up because they care and love you.”

            Both Frodo and Kili were quiet, enjoying the last of the fire as it died down.

            “Well,” Kili said getting up.  “It’s off to bed for me.”  He tussled Frodo’s hair as he said, “See you in the morning.”

            “Good-night,” Frodo said quietly, turning to watch the Dwarf-prince walk away.  “Kili, wait.” Frodo comprehension dawning in his mind.  “Why are _you_ still dressed in your day clothes and still awake?”

            Kili cocked an eyebrow and shrugged.  “Got caught up reading; forgot the time.”  He gave Frodo a wink as he turned and went off to bed.

            Frodo stared into the fire; a smile spreading on his face.

 

\-----oooooOOOOO88888OOOOOooooo-----

 

 

            Sunlight streamed through the bedroom window.  Frodo could feel it’s warmth on his face and see it behind his eyelids.  He became aware of birdsong and he slowly opened his eyes to the bright morning.  He could not hear distinct movements, but was as aware of the other inhabitants of Bag End as he was of the sunlight before he was fully awake.

            He quickly got out of bed and dressed.  He padded his way through the smial and watched Uncle Bilbo walk from the pantry to the dining room as he got close. 

            “Good morning.”  Frodo taking his seat at Thorin’s left.  Thorin replied with a good morning of his own, while Kili raised his fork and nodded his greeting as his mouth was stuffed.

            “Did you get enough sleep?” Bilbo set a plate loaded with griddlecakes, hard-over fried eggs and sausages in front for Frodo, then retreated back into the kitchen.

            “Yes, plenty.”  Frodo poured blueberry syrup over his cakes.  “Although, I don’t think, Uncle Thorin did.”  With a half smile on his face, he glanced to his right to catch the eye of his silver-haired uncle.

            Thorin raised an eyebrow.  “I slept perfectly well, mimelze.”

            “Sure.  _Once_ you went to bed.”  Frodo’s tone was dry but his eyes were bright with mirth.  Thorin returned his gaze to his food and effectively ignored his nephew.

            Bilbo came in with his own plate and took his seat at the opposite end of the table from Thorin.  “Did you come to bed late, dear?  I didn’t notice.”  Bilbo’s voice was casual but Frodo wasn’t buying it, especially since Bilbo didn’t seem the least bit surprised.

            “I was reading; lost track of the time.”  Thorin shrugged.

            “Oh.  Well, that can happen to anyone.”  Bilbo shrugged as well, but he did give Frodo a quick glance before turning his attention to his plate.

            Frodo huffed out a sigh and caught Kili’s smirk across the table, which said, _Told you so_ without the need for a single word.  Frodo decided to just give up and frankly, he couldn’t stop the full-on smile forming on his lips.

            “So, who all was out last night?”  Bilbo asked Frodo.

            The rest of the meal was taken up by two conversations.  Frodo gossiped with Bilbo regarding who and what he saw and heard the night before, while Kili talked to Thorin about going to the forge.  Old Tosco Burrows had finally retired and his son Bosco was now the local blacksmith.  Kili was heading out after breakfast to assist as the back log of work as too extensive for one smith at present.  Thorin wanted to go but Kili assured him that it Bosco and he had it all under control.  This was echoed by Bilbo who made it clear that the forge was not only too small for three; that only being a convenient excuse as all present knew of Bilbo’s opinion that Thorin had no business working so hard at his age.

            Just as they were finishing up, there was a jingle of a bell.

            “Raven’s here,” Bilbo said, getting up and heading to the kitchen.  Some years ago, Thorin had turned the small closet just inside the north cellar door into an indoor aviary for the ravens; thus allowing a few ravens to be kept for missives back and forth between Erebor.  Thorin had made an opening so that ravens could come in and out at their leisure while being sheltered from heat or cold.  Nicest part of all was the small bell rigged so that if any raven arrived, they were trained to ring the bell to alert the residents of Bag End that a letter was there.  It proved very handy.

            “I’ll get it.” Kili got up and headed for the aviary.

            “Well, I’m off.” Frodo made to stand and gather his plates.

            “Where are you running off to so early?” Thorin asked, more than just curious.

            “I promised Hamson that I would go with him to Frogmorton.”  Frodo grabbed his plates to take them into the kitchen, but Thorin’s strong grip on his wrist had Frodo turning back to his uncle.

            “Here,” Thorin held out two small gold coins to Frodo.

            “Uncle Thorin,” Frodo sighed.  “I don’t need any money.  I have enough.”

            “Take it.” Thorin gave a slight scowl and pressed the coins into Frodo’s hand.  “Just in case.  You never know.”

            Frodo tried to hide the sigh but took the coins.  He knew better than to argue with his Uncle at this point.  However, when he took his plates into the kitchen, he tried to give the coins to his Uncle Bilbo.

            “I don’t need Uncle’s money,” Frodo whispered.

            Held up his hands; refusing to take the coins.  “I am not taking those.”

            “But, Uncle Bilbo –”  Frodo started.

            “You never know if you might need it.”

            He was done arguing.  He pocketed the coins with a mental note to _not_ use them.  “I am off then.  I will see you tonight.”

            “When will you be back?”

            “Probably by dinner, but might be as late as supper.”

            “All right.  Have a good time.”  Bilbo placed a kiss to Frodo’s cheek and turned to complete the dishes.

            “Good-bye, Uncle Thorin,” Frodo retuned to the dining hall and gave his Dwarf-uncle a hug which was returned along with a whiskered kiss on his cheek.

            “Travel safe.”  It was Thorin’s traditional parting, rather than good-bye.

            As the front door thumped closed, Bilbo came back for the remaining dishes.  “Did you want anything else?” Bilbo turned to Thorin with a raised eyebrow.

            Patting his stomach with a satisfied grin on his face, “As always with your cooking, I am sated, my love.”

            Bilbo returned the smile and kissed his husband.  “I am glad to hear that.”  He drew back and let his face fall comically.  “Besides, there isn’t any more anyway.”

            Thorin laughed.  “This house?  _Out of food_?  Not likely.”  That made Bilbo giggle.  “But we could go off to the market if you so desire.”

            “What a lovely idea.  It is a beautiful morning and a nice stroll to the –”  Bilbo didn’t get to finish as Kili walked back into the dining room.

            “You have two letters, Uncle.” Kili's face was somber in a way that made Bilbo uneasy.  “One is from mother but the other is an official missive from the kingdom.”  Kili handed Thorin the envelopes; one was thick and clearly had Dis’ handwriting on the front and the other was thinner but slightly larger, and had the large, red wax seal of Erebor on the back.

            Bilbo and Kili waited as Thorin opened the official letter first.  Both watched as the color seemed to drain from Thorin’s face before he looked up and glanced to Kili before looking intently at Bilbo.

            “It’s an official declaration,”  Thorin said, just above a whisper.  “We three have been banished from Erebor.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Khuz-dul Translations**  
>  mimelze – (little one)  
> melhekh-mim – the king that is little (little king)  
> mizimel – jewel of jewels
> 
> \------------
> 
> Highday is the Hobbit Friday - http://lotr.wikia.com/wiki/Hobbit_week
> 
> Frodo was actually the oldest of all the Hobbits in The Fellowship.  
> Frodo Baggins – born 2968  
> Samwise Gamgee – born 2980  
> Meriadoc Brandybuck – born 2982  
> Peregrin Took – born 2990


	11. March of Time - Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The tale of those, left behind.

****  

            It was the small voice in his head that told him to breathe; _in through your nose, out through your mouth, Baggins.  In through your nose, out through your mouth._

            “This is madness!”  Kili was shouting.  Bilbo could not remember his nephew this angry, ever.

            “Kili!” Thorin’s tone was angry but steady.  “I know no more than you but I can assure you there is a reason.”

            “Why would Fili do such a thing?!”  Kili had his hands in fists and looked like he was going to punch someone, or the wall.

            “Thorin,” Bilbo said firmly but quietly.  “Read Dis’ letter.  There must be an explanation, or at least a hint of one, in there.”

            Thorin nodded and opened Dis’ missive.  There was a two page letter covered in Dis’ tight, neat script and a smaller envelope within.  This envelope was marked “For Kili” and underneath that, “Open Last”.  As Kili was pacing the hallway, muttering to himself, Thorin slide the smaller envelope to Bilbo.   Bilbo accepted it with a small nod – both knew perfectly well that if it was handed over to Kili now, he would not wait to open it as was clearly wanted.

            As Thorin began to read out loud, Kili finally stopped and stood still behind his Uncle. 

           

 

_Brother-mine_

_I will apologize upfront for this letter.  I have much to tell and none of it is pleasant.  I urge you that if you have not read the official notice that should have arrived with this letter, then do so now.  I know you will be shocked but I beg of you to bear with me; I hope to make it all clear somehow._

            “Anything would be helpful at this point,” Kili said darkly.

 

_Some months ago, a few weeks before Durin’s Day as a matter of fact, the city of Dale was visited by a large caravan of traveling merchants from the east.  While normally the Men of Dale would not trade with such a lot, they seemed amiable enough and brought silks and wares the likes of which have never been seen.  Naturally, King Bain welcomed them into the city and even we Dwarrow were intrigued; with Durin’s day coming, many were looking for unique or exotic gifts_

_They were doing a good business with both the Men and Dwarfs.  They were a rough crowd but as I said, they were amiable.  No one took the least notice when a couple of them got sick.  It certainly isn’t unheard of for travelers to become ill in the course of their trek and for these merchants to come all the way from the east; no one gave it a second thought._

_This illness was insidious.  It took days to present itself and even then, it started with nothing more than a small cough or a mild headache in the morning; nothing to warn of the danger to come.  But, within in only a few short hours, a high fever manifested and but an hour later pain in the limbs and joints.  From there the nausea would set in and by mid-day, the ill were bedridden, unable to move without pain.  Water could barely be tolerated, to say nothing of food.  It was terrible, but since only the Easterlings were affected; there was much sympathy for them but no concern on our part._

_However, the illness did not remain confined to Easterlings.  It was not long before citizens of Dale started to become ill as well.  Again, this was not surprising, so few placed any great importance on it._

_It was only after the first few children became ill, that the disease spread like an Orc army over the city.  Within a fortnight, almost all the citizens of Dale were either becoming ill, already ill or, sadly succumbing to the illness._

            Bilbo gasped at the implications, but said nothing.  Thorin merely reached out and grasped Bilbo’s hand for comfort and then turned back to Dis’ letter.

 

_Erebor assisted as much as we could; medicine, fresh water, food supplies from the reserves.  Even our healers went to their aid as it became clear that Dale’s own were overwhelmed quickly.  Again, we were not concerned as we Dwarrow are rarely affected by illnesses of Men._

_What fools we were._

_When the first few Dwarrow became sick, most laughed.  They were teased for being ‘weak’ like men.  It was treated as a joke._

_Those healthy enough never had the worse symptoms, so we were blind in our defenses.  Even as some of the elderly and infirmed, already a susceptible population, became sick, no one was surprised.  However, like Dale, once the first dwarflings became ill, it was too late.  The disease spread like wildfire through the mountain until almost all were suffering._

_Fili and the council were beside themselves and measures were taken to contain and control.  Mining operations, markets and businesses were closed, the sick were told to remain in their homes and groups were not allowed to congregate together for fear of spreading the disease further.  But these measures were too late too late._

_As Men were affected much worse than Dwarrow and since Hobbits are related to the race of Men, I don’t need to tell you that Opal and the children were hit harder than most in the mountain._

 

            “Oh, no!”  Bilbo stood in his distress and Thorin pulled him close.

            “Sweet Mahal,” Kili was wide-eyed.

            Thorin could only shake his head and continued reading.

 

_A little more than two months after is started, it seemed to be all over._

_Dale was ravaged; there were so many bodies that huge bonfires burned day and night for a week to dispose of the dead.  In the end, just over half the population of Dale, mostly children and elderly were claimed._

_We Darrow were luckier; we lost just fewer than three hundred to the illness and most of those were aged and infirmed.  However,_ _four score_ _of the dead were dwarflings.  One could not walk the kingdom and not hear the wails of parents for their young._

_Your company did not come out of the epidemic unscathed.  While, honorably, they were some of the first to reach out and help those in need, it was also that they too were some of the first to contract the illness._

_In the end, Bifur and Dori fell victim to the plague and sadly, Opal, Lili and Dili were also upon those that we lost._

At that news, Thorin could not continue and Bilbo wept against his husband’s shoulder.  Kili came up behind Thorin and wrapped his arms around both his Uncles as they all shed tears for their loss.   Dear Opal, sweet little Lili and bright-eyed Dili, so much like his Uncle Kili, were gone from the world.   And to think their friends, Bifur and Dori were also off to The Halls of Waiting was painful.  It was a bitter pill to swallow.

            After several long minutes, Thorin reached for the letter and continued.

 

_I cannot tell you the pain and anguish that Fili has been through.  He has done his level best to rule and mourn his loss.  If it were not for young Thrain’s and Vili’s recovery, I do believe that Fili would have been broken beyond help._

_The hardest hit has been Vili.  So much like Fili and Kili in their youth, Vili and Dili were inseparable.  Now, Vili can only cry and mourn his twin; he states part of him is dead and buried with Dili.  It is too much for me to bear at times, but of course, I must for him, his brother and his father._

_But there is still worse to come, brother._

_As you can imagine, it didn’t take long for many of the parents of the dead children to start looking for someone to blame.  Needless to say, their rage turned to the city of_ _Dale_ _and Men in particular.  Many told them that it was ridiculous to blame anyone for a disease.  Who could have foreseen it?  They said that Dale had suffered worse than we did and they pointed out that we Dwarrow even laughed about it in the beginning._

_Of course, those arguments fell on deaf ears.  A faction of the populous began to believe that we should cut ties with Men and, in fact, should have nothing to do with any race but our own.  The total number calling for a severing of ties was not huge, but they were vocal and in true Dwarrow fashion, the entire mountain began to choose sides.  We were facing a civil war._

_We still are._

_Strangely, the loudest voice among the separatists was Balin.  At first I thought him addled from the disease.  Surely he could not want to cut ties with our closest and oldest allies?  But I was so wrong._

_He had been talking with Oin and they believed that if we had not permitted Men into the mountain, none of this would have happened at all.  Of course, you know perfectly well that would not have been the case – any Dwarf that went to Dale could have become infected and brought it into the mountain, but the separatists didn’t want to hear that.  Balin was so adamant, that dissention filtered into the council as well until chaos became the order of the day._

_Finally, Fili had enough and issued a proclamation.  Erebor would not cut ties with the Men of Dale, or any other ally and any Dwarrow that could not live with that decision were free to leave the kingdom._

_Unfortunately, while this proclamation did much to strengthen the view of those that favored continued ties with the outside, the voices of the separatists rang out equally strong._

_Now there were factions that not only favored cutting ties with non-Dwarrow but they now questioned the crown and in particular Fili’s judgment and right to rule.  Some turned and blamed the crown for the plague and were demanding a change in leadership if not a complete change in the ruling line._

_In the end, Balin decided to leave.  A great number of the separatists decided to follow him, just over two hundred in all, and they planned to retake and settle Khazad-dûm.  They believe that the Orc population will not have rebounded enough since the_ _Battle_ _of Azanulbizar to pose much of a threat_. _We have all tried to reason with him, but Balin was unmoved.  Oin decided to accompany him as well, but sadly, so has Ori._

            “What?!”  Bilbo was incredulous.  Thorin held up his hand for patience.

 

_Oin was great friends with Bifur, so his bitterness over Bifur’s loss easily explains his separatist views.  But Dori’s death has caused a great change in Ori’s personality.  Ori blamed not just Men or Fili but Erebor itself.  He says it all starting with The Arkenstone and insisted that the mountain is cursed.  He sited our line’s gold-madness, your treatment of Bilbo over the stone, the Battle of Five Armies, the recent plague, Dori’s Death and even his lose of Bilbo’s daily presence, as examples of this so-called curse and is determined to leave with Balin._

_Naturally, Dwalin does not share his brother’s or his One’s opinions.  Dwalin, like most survivor’s of Azanulbizar, believes Khazad-dûm to be a total loss, but Balin will not hear of it.  Dwalin attempted to reason with Ori but also to no avail.  They had terrible battles over Ori’s wanting to leave.  Dwalin refused to bless the venture and told Ori he was foolish for believing his brother’s fairy tales regarding the ‘black pit’; Ori accused Dwalin of trying to control him and, more horrifically, of being a coward.  Shortly there afterwards they both requested their marriage contract be broken._

            “I don’t believe it,” Bilbo said in a small voice.

            “But they are inseparable,” Kili said.  “As the two of you!”

            Thorin reached out for Bilbo’s hand and felt his One squeeze his in return.  “Apparently not.”  Thorin would think about it all later, after he had finished Dis’ letter.

 

_As I write this letter, the final preparations are being put into place for Balin, Oin, Ori and the rest of their group to leave.  While the unrest and dissention have calmed, it is far from gone.  There are still plenty here that do not want to leave but do agree with Balin’s view for cutting ties with Dale and anyone not Dwarrow and who question Fili’s rule._

_The council itself is still reeling from discord sown by Balin.  While not all of the members believe along the same lines, they have agreed that stability is vital for the continuation of the kingdom.  This is why they fear the return of You, Bilbo and/or Kili._

_The council feels that your return will only divide the kingdom further as many would rally to your camp, whether you desire the crown or not – that will not matter to them.  Even Kili is being viewed as a viable candidate for the crown should he return._

_On the other hand, your return maybe seen as a threat by the other factions and your lives could be in danger – that is something Fili will not risk._

_This situation is a mess and we are trying all we can do avoid an escalation of the civil unrest._

_Please understand that this Declaration of Banishment is not a choice Fili wanted to make.  The council is more than aware of our family’s close ties and they believe strongly that you and Bilbo, but most definitely Kili, will attempt to return to give support to Fili.  But, as I stated, your presences in the mountain could only destabilize an already precarious situation._

_I know very well this is not what you wanted to hear and I beg you all not to feel this as a personal affront.  As I have said, Fili is not happy about this declaration – but for him to override the council in this matter could only lead to more discord within the council itself and, by extension, the kingdom._

_However, please know, that one of Fili’s stipulations of his agreeing to the Declaration was that as soon as peace and stability has been established, your Declaration of Banishment is to be rescinded and you all be welcomed to Erebor once more._

_Please try to understand brother and please give our love to Bilbo and Kili._

_Your loving sister,_

_Dis._

            The three stood there for a several minutes taking in the message of Dis’ letter.  The quiet was almost painful before Bilbo spook.

            “So,” Bilbo began with a deep, even breath, “what does this exile mean?”

            “No.  Not exile,” Thorin stated quietly but firmly.  “It is only a Declaration of Banishment.  It is not exile.”

            Bilbo was confused.  Thorin had never issued anything like this during his nearly thirty years on the throne.  Bilbo felt he was missing something.

            “Care to explain the difference?”  Bilbo asked while he remembered the small envelope.  “Oh, Kili.”  Bilbo waited for Kili’s attention before holding out his letter.  “This was with Dis’ letter – it’s for you.”

            Kili ripped it open, hesitated for a moment and then took off down the hall.  Thorin called for him to return but the sound of Kili’s bedroom door slamming was the only response. 

            “Let him read it in peace,” Bilbo said.  “Why don’t we go sit in the parlour and you can explain all this to me.”

            Thorin retreated to his chair by the hearth as Bilbo quickly finished in the kitchen, then brought two cups of tea, handing one to his husband while he took the chair opposite of Thorin’s.

            “So,” Bilbo started, placing his cup aside.  “What is the difference between banishment and exile?  They sound the same to me.”

            “We were lucky,” Thorin said, “We never had to use Exile when we were in Erebor.  And I guess I never explained about banishment as there are difference degrees.  There are a four ways to ban someone from a Dwarf Kingdom.

            “The first is Banishment.  This is issued by the king, without need for either council approval or a public announcement.  It is used for those of other races, as all Dwarrow have a right to enter any Dwarf kingdom or settlement regardless of their lineage or clan affiliation.  Banishment can apply to only one kingdom or them all, and punishment can range from refusal of entry to death.  It is entirely up to the King’s discretion.”

            Bilbo suddenly remembered his own Banishment all those years ago.  Bilbo did not mention it aloud however.  He caught the flicker that was Thorin’s pain and regret, even after nearly fifty years, in his husband’s eyes and Bilbo had no desire to bring it up again.  It was over with, long gone and if he could remove the memory from his love’s mind, he would.   He took a sip of tea and gave Thorin as sweet a smile as was in his power to bestow. 

            Thorin returned Bilbo’s smile and continued on.  “For a Dwarf to be banished from a Dwarf kingdom there must be either a Declaration, a Proclamation or a sentence of Exile.”

            “And what are the differences to those?”

            “Exile is the worst.  It is reserved for the most heinous of crimes where death is seen as too lenient a punishment.  In fact, those who are exiled usually beg for death instead.  A Dwarf condemned to Exile is not just banished from one Dwarf kingdom but all kingdoms and settlements.  They are brought before the kingdom and pronounced in public as an Exile, held down as their head and faces are shaved clean and then dragged out the gates with only the clothes on their back.  They are forced to wander the world alone.  Suicide cannot be used as an option as it is an affront to Mahal, and as such, would make them unworthy of entering the Halls after death and their souls would be trapped in oblivion for eternity – even denied rebirth after the breaking of the world.  The only time I have ever seen Exile used was when a Dwarf has purposely taken the life of a Dwarfling or pregnant Dwarrowdam and the family requests Exile rather than a death sentence.

            “A Proclamation is a public announcement and is usually reserved for punishment of a crime or something that affects the entire kingdom.  When I decided to abdicate, I had to make a Proclamation both in writing and verbally before the citizens.  This allows anyone that opposes the Proclamation the chance to come before the council and make their objections known and considered.   Although rarely is a Proclamation overturned, it still gives the populous their right to object.

            “A Declaration does not need to be held up for public opinion and can be drafted by the council and then presented to the king for approval, or can be drafted by the king himself and then presented to the council.  The idea here though is that since it is not public, it is used for political reasons only.  And while the council can draft it, the king still has to approve it before it can go into effect.

            “Both of these are, regardless of how grim they sound, do not require the death of the banished, nor do they extend to other kingdoms.  The usually outcome is that anyone banished that attempts to enter the kingdom, is refused entry and turned away – preferably long before they are close to the gates.  Also, the banished Dwarf may move to any other Dwarf kingdom or settlement and reside there.”

            “So this is why,” Bilbo said, nodding, “you are not concerned over the Declaration.”

            “Indeed.”  Thorin sat back and took sip of his tea.  “It is only a formality; a political maneuver.  If the situation is even half as volatile as Dis claims it is then I do believe our presence alone will cause it to descend into more chaos.  Add Kili and I can easily see the mountain divided into those that would follow us, those that would chose Kili, those that would continue with Fili and that faction that will want a complete change in ruling line.

            “No, it is better for us to remain here and stay out, as much as we may want to run off and offer support and I know that is what we all want to do.  But we cannot.  This Declaration is merely a way to ensure that.”

            “It just seems so extreme.” Bilbo shook his head.

            “I cannot agree with that, my love.” Thorin shook his head.

            “Why not?”  Bilbo was amazed at his husband’s calm.

            “Well,” Thorin took another sip of tea and seemed to gather his words.  “For either a Declaration or a Proclamation to go before the king, it must be approved by all the members of council unanimously.  Now Dis has said that Balin was able to sow discord within the council itself.  So, in order for a divided council to agree on this one issue, means that the mountain is so divided that council is near to running scared, as much as I hate to admit it.  This would also explain why Fili went against his own wishes and agreed to the Banishment in the first place.  If the council falls apart, so will the mountain, and Fili’s ignoring the council’s Declaration would do just that.”

            “Couldn’t Fili have just written us,” Bilbo said with a sigh.  “And asked not to come?”

            “Would that have been enough to stop Kili?”  Thorin suppressed his laugh but not his smirk.  “Would it have even stopped you?”

            Bilbo had to think on that and after several long seconds he still couldn’t answer his husband, whose knowing smile was spreading.

            “As I thought,” Thorin said.  “Honestly, I cannot not even say if I would be able to resist going back if merely asked not to come.”  Thorin leaned forward and took Bilbo’s hands in his own.  “This Declaration is just a political chess game.  Our pieces have been taken off the board, and rightfully so.  The mountain will stabilize with time and as soon as it is, the Declaration of Banishment will be lifted.

            “I think the bigger question is this; can we keep our reckless nephew from disobeying and running off on a fool’s errand?”

            Bilbo had to chew on that one.  Keeping Kili here while his mother and brother were in dire straits would not be easy.  Bilbo wasn’t even sure Kili could be made to see the reason behind banishment.  “I think all we can do,” he said finally, “is try our best to explain the situation and hope he doesn’t do something foolish.”

            “I think you hope for too much,” Thorin replied.  “However, you are correct.”

            They sat for long minutes, drinking their tea and lost in their own thoughts.

            “What shocks me out of all this,” Thorin said, turning to Bilbo.  “Is Balin’s reaction.  Of anything, his is the one I cannot comprehend.”

            “Oh, I can,” Bilbo said, sipping the last of his tea.

            Thorin sat up in surprise.  “I have known Balin since before you were born; what do you know that I don’t?”

            “Well, have you looked at him when he talked of Azanulbizar?”

            “What do you mean?”

            “He gets a – gleam, in his eye.  I could almost say it is anger but it’s darker than that.  He also becomes stiff and his visage is clouded.”

            Thorin was taken aback.  “I have never noticed these things before.”

            “They are subtle, but it is there.”

            “Well, you have always had a knack for seeing what others have missed.”  Thorin did admire his love for that – it came in handy on numerous occasions, especially with the Elves.  Bilbo seemed to be able to read the minute shifts in body language, eye movement, even tonal changes in their voices.  “Maybe I shouldn’t be surprised at Balin.  He was particular close to his father, Fundin.  A huge bear of man, like Dwalin, but he had a sharp tongue and an even sharper mind.  Perhaps Balin never got over his father’s death at Azanulbizar as much as he said he did.”

            Bilbo nodded his agreement.  “This retaking of Moria may be more avenging his father than simply a desire to reclaim your ancestral home.  What does surprise me though is Dwalin and Ori.”

            “Now, there,” Thorin said, “I am less surprised than about Balin.”

            “Really?”  Bilbo was surprised at Thorin.

            “Don’t get me wrong,” Thorin stated.  “I am surprised at Ori’s reaction, even with Dori’s death, but not that this would drive them apart.”

            “I am!”  Bilbo was still gob smacked at the idea.  “I would never have foreseen Dwalin or Ori turning against the other.”

            “I can’t say I saw that in particular but remember, Dwalin has sworn an oath to the crown, not the king mind you, but the crown.  That means even Fili cannot release him from his oath.  Only death can release him.  If he were to leave and follow Ori, it would be tantamount to a self-imposed Exile, but without the shaving.  He would be seen as disloyal, a betrayer and be unwelcome in any Dwarf kingdom.”

            “By Yahanna,” Bilbo said, quietly.  “I had no idea it was taken that seriously.”

            “Oh yes.”  Thorin wore a grim face.  “Dwalin made the oath years before Ori was even born, back when he thought that he would live and breathe a warrior’s life and had no desire, let alone hope, of finding his One.  But Ori knew of Dwalin’s oath before they even courted; I was there when Dwalin explained it to him.  And yet, Ori went so far as to call Dwalin a coward for staying.”

            Bilbo shook his head.  “I am sure Ori is just not in his right mind.  He is clearly devastated at Dori’s death, I am sure.”

            “Yet, he was sane enough to ask for a break in their marriage contract,” Thorin said with a pointed look to Bilbo.  “And let’s not forget this is about Ori’s losses, not just the loss of his brother.  He was one of the more vocal against my treatment of you at the gate, and besides Kili, he was the most upset at your leaving Erebor.  Now add that his closest brother is dead and his husband doesn’t share his views nor will he follow him.”

            “I knew Ori was upset I was leaving, but,” Bilbo felt dazed.  “I had no idea he would feel that strongly about it.”

            “You two were such close friends, though.”

            “We shared much; love of books, history, writing, even plants, and of course, we both loved our husbands greatly and the fact that you and Dwalin were the best of friends, I guess, just adds another layer to it all.”  Bilbo had never really thought about it in such blunt terms really.  “But it never dawned on me that my absence would be taken so hard by him.”

            Bilbo sat thinking about his friendship with Ori.  He kicked himself for not paying closer attention and being there for Ori.  If he were so good at reading people, how had he missed it?  But then, Ori was always the master at concealing the depth of his own pain.  Bilbo was suddenly roused by Thorin’s soft chuckling.

            “What’s so funny?”  Bilbo asked, looking over at his husband who was clearly lost in amused thought.

            “Just thinking about the time I nearly beat Dwalin to a pulp over you and Ori.”

            “What?!”  What had Bilbo missed?

            “Remember that first huge feast we had after the reclaiming the mountain?”

            Bilbo though back.  “Oh yes, it was in the spring, just before we married.  Many of the Ereborean Dwarf’s had arrived and we were celebrating.”

            “Do you remember you and Ori, in the corner alone?”

            Bilbo blushed, placed his hands on his face and giggled at the memory.  “Oh gods, yes!  We were so tipsy!”

            Thorin nodded.  “Well, the two of you were giggling over something and hanging onto each other to stay standing.  Both Dwalin and I were taken at how cute and adorable the two of you were together, acting like two little schoolboys.”

            Bilbo turned even redder and laughed out loud at the image of his younger self and Ori, not to mention what they were giggling about.  Ori had gotten bold in his drunkenness and started talking about Dwarf tattoos and body piercing and was more than happy to disclose Dwalin’s – more intimate markings and adornments. 

            “I hadn’t drunk that much,” Thorin said, continuing his story.  “But Dwalin was three sheets to the wind and I think he forgot that you and I were intended in his drunken haze, because he looked over at you two and said, _‘I wouldn’t mind finding both of them together in my bed on a cold night.’”_

            Bilbo’s jaw dropped.  “He did _not_!”  It was all too funny and Bilbo had to stop himself from falling on the floor laughing.

            Thorin was also laughing and held up his right hand.  “As Mahal is my witness!”  They were both laughing hard now.  “I, of course, was not thrilled at that moment and proceeded to point out that I didn’t find his statement amusing.  But Dwalin just looked at me in all seriousness and said, _‘You can join in if you want to, though.’”_

That did it; Bilbo fell forward laughing and clutching his side.  Thorin was quick and caught him before he hit the floor.  It took several minutes for them to control themselves.

            “So,” Bilbo said, smiling and attempting to hold down his laughter.  “What did you say to that?”

            “Nothing.” Thorin shrugged.  “I just punched him in the face and knocked him out cold!”  Another peel of shared laughter followed.  “The next morning, Dwalin came crawling to me like a dog with its tail between its legs and apologized.  He made me swear to never tell Ori or you and, if I remember correctly, he spent the next two weeks unable to look you in the eye and bowed to you every chance he got.”

            Bilbo gasped.  “I remember that!  I wondered what was wrong with him at the time and I even asked Ori if he knew anything.  Ori told me he didn’t have clue, but that Dwalin was pampering him at home left, right and center!”

            “I bet he was!”  Thorin said smirking.  “He felt so horrible about it.  He was so in love with Ori; he would have rather died than hurt him.”

            That sobered them up.  Dwalin and Ori seemed like the perfect match.  The burly Dwarf guard and the little scribe, each complimenting the other, so in sync with each other and so perfect together, were now broken.  It was heartbreaking to think on.

            “I wonder what Dwalin is going through,” Bilbo said quietly.

            “I can’t imagine.”  Thorin seemed lost in that thought for a moment.  “I can only say that if I lost you, I don’t know if I could go on living.” 

            Thorin’s looked so lost at that moment, Bilbo was actually pained and he reached across to take one of Thorn’s hands in his own.  They just shared that moment together.  And Bilbo silently agreed – without Thorin, what would be the purpose to continue on living?  There wasn’t any.

            “I should write Ori.”  Bilbo felt he should do something.

            “Dis’ letter said they were preparing to leave,” Thorin said apologetically.  “By the time a raven made it back to Erebor, Ori would already be on his way to Khazad-dûm.  And the ravens refuse to travel there.  You will have to wait to hear from Ori.”

            Bilbo felt something cold wash over him.  He couldn’t explain it and he knew he had no reason for it, but he felt like he would never hear from Ori again.

 

\-----oooooOOOOO88888OOOOOooooo-----

 

            “Oh, Kili.”  Kili looked up and saw that Bilbo was holding out a small envelope towards him.  “This was with Dis’ letter – it’s for you.”

            Kili ripped it open, and it only took him to read the first three words before he was running for his room.   He heard his Uncle call for him but he ignored the call and slammed the bedroom door behind him. 

            He stood with his back pressed against the door and took deep breathes.  When he was finally calm, and had hold of his breath, he moved to sit on the edge of the bed and read.

 

 

_My dearest brother_

_I hope that you have read mother’s letter before now.  I beg you, please, to do so if you have not.  There is so much you must know and I have not the strength to write it all here._

_The mountain is in chaos and factions daily make their grievances known.  I am not sure what the future holds and I am trying my best to keep the kingdom in order.  As Mahal is my witness, I swear I will give up my life before I let all that Uncle fought and worked so hard to build, be lost because of me._

_But I will admit to you that I am tired.  So very tired._

_This disease has taken so much from the kingdom.  Not just lives but our peace, our security, even the ties of friendship.  I don’t know how much more we can lose._

_We almost lost mother.  I know she will not put that in her letter but she was one of the first to become ill, along with our friends in the company.  It was hard enough to lose Bifur and Dori, but to have lost her as well would have been horrific.  I feared for her, as so many of our elders were succumbing to the plague but she rallied and proved once again that she is far stronger than anyone knows._

_I have lost so much in the past few months; my wife, my little girl and my sweetest boy._

_I thought I would die when I held Opal as she past, only to have to go through the pain again the next day as Lili went on to join her mother._

_But to be honest, cradling Dili in my arms felt so much worse.  Not just because, until the very end, his only concern was for his brothers and myself – he hurt to see us sad, but because Dili reminded me so much of you, brother.  As he breathed his last, it hit me how much I have truly lost with the march of time._

_I am such a fool for letting us drift apart all these years.  It is no one’s fault but my own – it was never yours.  I ignored the one thing that was so precious to me – your love, because I was blinded by my own wants and ambitions.  I took you for granted, always expecting you to be there for me.  Even when you left with our Uncles, I failed to appreciate you as you should have been and just expected you to return to me._

_Now I ache to see you, so desperately, but I must urge you not to come._

_I know you must be hurt by the Declaration, and for that I am deeply sorry, but it really is in your own good.  The civil unrest is like poison and while I have no fear of you taking the crown from me – such a ridiculous idea, I know that there would be those that see you as a threat and your life would be in grave danger._

_I cannot – I will not, risk losing you._

_Please, again I urge you not to come – do not even think on it for more than moment.  Wait until peace settles here in the mountain and I can lift the cursed Declaration.  Then I will be glad of your return – if you wish to come.  I will beg you return – if I must._

_Take care of yourself Kili.  Know that I miss and love you very much and I am so very sorry for everything._

_Your loving brother,_

_Fili_

            Tears ran down his face halfway through the letter, but Kili continued to read.  His heart was thumping in his chest and he felt a bit sick to his stomach.  _Mahal’s hammer, poor Fili to have gone through all that!  And I was here in the Shire, running around like a fool._ Kili wanted to kick himself for not staying in touch, not writing more – not doing more! 

            He read the letter twice more before he decided what to do.  But then, he knew what he would do before he ever read the first line.

 

\-----oooooOOOOO88888OOOOOooooo-----

 

            Bilbo and Thorin spoke with Kili when he finally emerged from his room.  They were concerned for his well being but Kili surprised them with understanding and promises to stay put.  Although it seemed too easy, the accepted his words and they sat down to speak about what to tell Frodo.

            Frodo returned home that evening, bright and cheerful from his trip and wanting nothing more than to share his day with his uncles and cousin.  Of course, Bilbo, Thorin and Kili had all agreed to that Frodo need not know of the Declaration, or of the troubles of Erebor.  Frodo was sensitive to others and Thorin didn’t want upset him needlessly with things that Frodo could not change or assist with.   Bilbo pointed out that Thorin had said himself years ago that Frodo should not be sheltered from death and finally in the end, they agreed to tell the tween only of the plague and of Opal’s and the children’s passing.  True to fashion, Frodo was upset and set to write Fili and extend his condolences.

            As the day had been long and tiring for everyone, they all retired early. 

            When Bilbo woke in the morning, he went about his routine as usual.  He had always been an early riser and more often than not, he ate breakfast alone, the others not waking until second breakfast at the earliest.  Bilbo didn’t mind – he had a few hours to himself and he would often sit in the back garden sipping tea as the world woke around him. 

            As he set the table for second breakfast, Thorin came in to the kitchen and kissed him good morning.  Soon Frodo emerged and took his seat at the table.  Half-way through the meal though, Kili still had not awoke and Bilbo padded down the hall to wake him.

            Not a minute later, Bilbo ran back to the dining room to tell Thorin that Kili was not in his room and the bed looked like it had not been slept in.  They both went back to Kili’s room and Thorin noticed that Kili’s cloak, bow, quiver and traveling pack was gone.  It was then that they noticed the small note on Kili’s pillow with only two words.

             _I'm sorry._

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Four Score = 80. in terms of the dead of Erebor, that amounts to just over 25 percent where children.
> 
> \------------
> 
> For those interested, the royal family's ages when they died of the plague:
> 
> Opal was 77  
> Dili was 32  
> Lili was just 21


	12. Interlude - Fili and Kili

            For the longest time, it was simply ‘them.’ And if not ‘them’, it was ‘we’, ‘us’, ‘you two’, ‘ _those two’_ , or even the more ambiguous – ‘the boys.’ And regardless of the five years between them, as they grew up, many who were not on familiar terms with the royal family thought them twins - fraternal of course, but twins none the less. However, those who did know them intimately would agree that from the moment they were both in the world together, they were a set.

            Not that either Fili or Kili minded.

            Dis loved to tell the story that Fili has been fascinated by the idea of “growing” a baby. He had watched his mother’s belly expand throughout her eighteen month pregnancy, asking all sorts of questions about development and stages of growth – even at five years old, he was very astute and didn’t believe any mythical beginnings of life; he simply was not going to buy into the idea that the ravens of Ravenhill delivered babies with the morning mail.

            It was during this period of intense questions that Dis made a mistake that she wouldn’t realize was one until it was far too late – and even then, she claimed that it was a mistake she would gladly make again.

            It seemed Fili thought the baby had go to someone else after it was born. He understood that many other couples, like councilman Druak and his husband Bernat, didn’t have children and that there were few babies period in Dwarrow community; therefore, Dis might have to give the new baby away. His concern wasn’t that the baby wouldn’t be welcomed or loved, but that it might go to a home without other children. He worried the baby would be all by itself and cry all the time because it was lonely and not have anyone to share toys and adventures and not have any fun and he wondered if he could go and play with the baby sometime so that the baby wouldn’t be unhappy and please mommy, please – can’t I go see the baby after you give him away?

            Dis tried very hard not to laugh at her very painfully earnest son and told him, “Ghivashith – the baby isn’t being given away. He or she is staying right here.”

            “Really, Amad?!”

            “Yes, Fili. This is your sibling – no one else’s.”

            Well, that did it – because from that point on it was “his baby”, and pride of ownership had Fili watching over Dis like a hawk. He would accompany her when she left their chambers, walking in front of her to clear everyone out of they way to make sure they didn’t touch her belly or “his baby.” He would cluck over Dis if she were on her feet for longer than five minutes and would volunteer to get her food so that “his baby” got plenty to eat too!

            Not long after it started, Fili would yell at the Dwarfs around Dis not to touch mommy, least they harm “his baby.” Kissing, hugging, touching Dis’ tummy, and even hand shakes were strictly forbidden! Vili would huff, sigh and growl in frustration, but Dis just laughed and told him to get over it—she thought it endearing. She particularly found it hilarious when Fili started extending the same behavior to Uncle Thorin and Cousin Dwalin – “Their too big and bulky! They might hurt you, Amad!” She’d chuckled as both Dwarfs rolled their eyes—both knew perfectly well that in most cases, it was she who dished out the hurt on them, not the other way around. Of course, she also gladly played the “precious gem” when Fili acted this way, smirking up her sleeve as her little lion fussed, fumed and commanded the grown Warriors to do as he said—she had every intention to milk it for all it was worth.

            Fili’s behavior hit a high point when the baby was born.

            There was some debate still as to the baby’s name—both parents just could not see eye to eye. Vili wanted a name that followed his line, while Dis suggested one of her forbearers. Vili suggested his brother’s name, to which Dis stated that in no way was she naming her child _that!_ Dis suggested Thror, to which Vili said he would rather name it Smaug! The argument escalated back and forth for close to half an hour until Thorin arrived.

            “So, have you decided on a name, namadith?” Thorin asked as he came up and peered down at the tiny bundle in Fili’s arms.

            Before either parent could answer, Fili spoke up loud and clear, “Kili!”

            Dis, Vili, and Thorin all looked at him with wide-eyes. During the entire argument, the little prince had not said a word – he simply sat as his mother’s side and cradled his little brother as if he was the Arkenstone itself.

            “Why Kili, ghivashith?” Dis asked.

            “Because no one else has that name,” Fili said as if it was obvious, “and it rhymes with mine!” Fili gave Dis a toothy grin that was mirrored a few moments later on her own face.

            “Let’s call him Vili then,” Vili stated look smug.

            But Fili wasn’t buying it. “Why would we do that?”

            “Well, it rhymes with yours and I’m his Adad.”

            Fili shrugged, “So what?”

            “Yeah,” Thorin said smirking at Vili. “So what?”

            “It should unique and different.” Fili added.

            “Like, Thorin,” the king said smugly.

            That comment got an eye roll from his blond nephew. “Uncle Thorin, you’re the second of that name – it’s even worse that, Adad’s!”

            “Exactly,” Dis said, throwing Thorn’s smug smile back at him. It was time to put it all to rest. “Fili has a point. It should be unique and all his own. I like Kili.”

            “Me too, Amad!” Fili said. He now settled back against the pillows and leaned into his mother, all the while holding tight to Kili.

            “But, mizimel –”, “Namadith –,” Both Vili and Thorin started at once but were silenced.

            “ _I like Kili!”_ Dis said, with a pointed, decisive glare at both Dwarfs that dealt a death blow to the argument and pleased her oldest son to no end.

            From that moment on, one became two, then two became a pair and finally – the pair became inseparable.

            As they grew, they shared everything.

            At first Kili had his own room, but Dis would wake in the night, only to find the crib empty and Fili and Kili, pillows arranged all around them like a fluffy wall, snuggled together in the middle of Fili’s bed; Kili tucked neatly under Fili’s chin. After weeks of taking Kili back to the crib, only for Fili to repeatedly sneak the babe back to bed with him night after night, Dis just gave up. She order one large bed, placed it in Fili’s room—now ‘ _the boy’s room’,_ and let them be.

            It was Fili that made sure that Kili ate all his food. It was Fili who would sit by Kili while the babe slept to make sure nothing untoward happened. It was Fili that taught Kili to talk, encourage the babe to walk, and even learned to change diapers and wash him during baths. And if someone wanted to hold the baby that wasn’t immediate family, they had to get through Fili’s interrogations before hand.

            As Kili grew, of course, this behavior was reciprocated. If someone had a problem with Fili, then they would find they had a problem in Kili as well.

            And woe to the one that thought they could separate them.

            They shared tears and sadness as much as fun and laughter. When Vili was killed in a cave-in not two years after Kili’s birth, it was Kili that spurred Fili out of depression. When Kili had nightmares, it was Fili that would sooth the crying Dwarfling. When it was one or the other’s birthday, the presents were shared as much as the cake, and after a few years, most guests started giving gifts that were for two, rather than for one.

            When they started schooling, they even took lessons together. Fili should have been ahead because of the five year difference, but he worried as to his brother’s safety and so he stayed behind to be with Kili. Of course, this lead to Kili taking a good deal of studies and lessons that were ahead of him – and before he might be ready. Dis always maintained that that was the reason for Kili’s often times reckless behavior—he just never had the sense that something was beyond him in years.

            As they continued to mature it was impossible to find one without the other. They went everywhere together, had friends together, walked together, ran together, played together – played _pranks_ together, and got punished _because of the pranks_ together. Even when they got to their teens and headed for their twenties, they still remained in the same room together and slept together – any suggestion of a change was met with the fiercest of refusals from the Durin brothers.

            However, when Fili reached turned twenty-four, some very odd things started happening. He stopped taking baths with Kili. Yet sometimes, Kili would find Fili taking baths at odd hours of the day or night and he would stay in there for long periods. He didn’t snuggle with Kili at night as he used to and Kili would often wake to find Fili turned away from him or just not there—Kili would find Fili in the bathroom, _again,_ on these nights. Kili would ask Fili if everything was alright and Fili would assure him there was nothing wrong but Kili was too in tuned to his brother not to realize that there was _something_ going on, even if it wasn’t wrong. This continued for almost a year and Kili did his best to just ignore it. But it was hard.

            Then the unthinkable happened.

            Kili wanted to go explore the old royal corridors but he couldn’t find Fili anywhere! Deciding he would just go on his own, Kili heard noises and whispering. Was there someone here that shouldn’t be? Were there intruders or assassins? Maybe someone was stealing things! Kili wished he had Fili with him, but as he was alone, he decided it was up to him to discover the truth. He kept to the shadows and followed the low voices and noises until he came to a small, room that hadn’t been used since Durin’s Folk at first settled in the Blue Mountains. But what he found there brought him to a dead stop.

            Fili was with another young Dwarf, Geirr—a handsome boy from weapons class. Geirr was one of the few boys to get their beard so early—he was only twenty-six. Both Fili and Kili admitted that it was a fine beard and when Fili started to get thicker fuzz on his own cheeks, Geirr was the first to congratulate him. Everyone liked Geirr and with his steely-blue eyes and soft brown hair and beard, it didn’t take a wizard to figure why. But if Kili were honest he would have to admit he had always been a little jealous when Geirr and Fili talked together – he just didn’t know why.

            From where he stood, Kili couldn’t see what all they were doing—Geirr had his back to him, but they both had their shirts off. The two twenty-somethings were standing very close to each other and they were talking low and quietly. Kili couldn’t hear what they were saying at all but he could tell that whatever the conversation, it was clearly agreeable. As Kili watched, now and then one of the boys would reach out a hand and run it over the other’s chest or stroked a cheek. Then they were leaning closer until their lips met and each was wrapping the other in their arms. Fili stepped back, allowing Geirr was kissing his way down Fili’s chest, slowly moving lower along Fili’s stomach and then Geirr was kneeling and …

            Kili turned away—he couldn’t breathe right and he felt a hollow, empty feeling in his stomach. He was confused and hurt. Did Fili like Geirr better? He must if he let the handsome Dwarf do that! But, did that mean Fili didn’t like Kili anymore? Did Fili _hate him?_ Fili had said they were everything to each other. They were _‘ûrzud ra nûlukh’_ , the Sun and the Moon. But it was all a lie—it had to be! Fili never let Kili do those kind of things with him but especially not _that!_

            Kili ran home and ended up crying in the corner of his room. _His room_ he told himself, because he bet that Fili probably didn’t want share a room with Kili anymore and probably wanted do things with Geirr and they wouldn’t want Kili around, because Fili didn’t want Kili around already! It was all so clear now.

            Kili was so despondent he didn’t hear Fili come in.

            “What’s the matter, nûlukh?” Fili said softly, clearly concerned at finding Kili sitting in the corner, forehead resting on his knees that were brought tight to his chest.

            “I’m not your, nûlukh,” Kili mumbled, refusing to look at his brother as he came and knelt in front of him.

            “Of course, you are!” Fili said, emphatically. “Just as I’m your, ûrzud.” He reached out for Kili’s shoulder but Kili pushed Fili away.

            “No, you’re not!” Kili said, starting to cry again. “Go away!”

            “Kili, what is this all about?! We are a team, remember?”

            “No we aren’t! You have someone new now—go away!”

            Fili froze. “Kili, who are you talking about?” He whispered.

            “I saw you with, Geirr,” Kili said quietly.

            Fili just knelt there. If Kili had looked at him, he would have seen fear in his brother’s eyes. “Kili –” Fili tentatively reached for his brother but stopped when Kili started speaking in a pained filled voice.

            “Why don’t you love me anymore?” Kili looked up, his eyes were red and swollen and his face was tear-stained. But it was the hurt expression—no, not just hurt, Kili looked wrecked, that Fili couldn’t take.

            Fili took some deep breathes. “Kili, I do love you –”

            “You don’t do any of those things with me!” Kili cried and hid his face again.

            “Kili, there are some things that we can’t do with each other.”

            Kili started pushing Fili away with both hands. “You just don’t want to be around me anymore! Just admit it—you hate me!”

            “Kili, that’s not true.” Fili was on the verge of crying himself now.

            “It is! I saw what you did and you wouldn’t do those things if you didn’t like him better!” Kili pushed at Fili with all his strength and stood up to leave, just as Fili stood to stop him.

            “Kili, please listen to me. You have it all wrong.”

            “Do I? I see what you do—you can’t stand to be near me anymore! You can’t even stand to touch me—not even in your sleep!” Kili’s hurt was crystallizing into anger now. He made to leave again, but was stopped by Fili’s hands on his shoulders.

            “Kili, please—please, let me explain!”

            But Kili was not going to listen anymore. “Nam hubma!” he shouted and shoved Fili hard enough to send him stumbling backwards; tripping over their discarded weapons on the floor. The blond tried to catch himself but to no avail—he fell, smacking his head on the stone wall and crumbling to the floor; unmoving.

            Kili could only stare for a few long moments before panic set in. He went running and just as the opened the doors to the family’s apartments, he found his mother coming towards him in the corridor.

            “Amad!” Kili cried grabbing her arm and pulling. “It’s Fili—he fell and he’s not moving!”

            Dis didn’t say a word but ran with Kili back to the boy’s bedroom. She only took moments to examine her oldest boy before turning to Kili. “Run; tell the guard to fetch Oin immediately!”

            Kili was already up and heading out of the room before she could finish her sentence. He found a guard just down the corridor and sent him for Oin then sprinted back to his mother and brother.   He found his mother lifting Fili into a sitting position.

            “Kili,” Dis said authoritatively, “help him get him on the bed and then I want to know _exactly_ what happened.”

            Kili barely got to open his mouth when the apartment doors opened and in strode Oin, quickly followed by Thorin.

            “What happened?” Oin said, striding over to the bed and immediately began to examine Fili.

            Dis looked at Kili with an expectant look.

            “He fell backwards and hit his head against the wall,” Kili said in a small voice. Thorin turned to him with an inquisitive look. “He fell?” the king asked.

            “He tripped over the weapons on the floor,” Kili didn’t met his uncle’s gaze, nor did he turn to his mother’s equally piercing stare.

            “If everyone could clear the room, please” Oin stated. “Your majesty, if you would have a guard fetch my bag from the infirmary, it would be most helpful.” Thorin immediately left the room to find a guard.

            “I am not leaving my son,” Dis said firmly.

            “You can do nothing at present,” Oin replied just a firmly. “I will be out as soon as I have something to tell you.”

            Dis seemed on the verge of arguing but instead she took Kili by the arm and led them both out of the room. Thorin walked back and told Oin that the guard was sent and then joined Dis and Kili.

            “What are you doing here?” Dis asked Thorin.

            “I was speaking with Oin when the guard came to get him.”

            Dis just gave a quick nod and then turned to Kili. “Now,” Dis said, folding her arms across her chest. “What exactly did happen?” Thorin stood to her right and both gave the young prince matching looks.

            Kili looked away and there was only a brief moment of hesitation accompanied before the entire story poured out. He started with going to the old royal chambers and continued on to the point of finding Dis in the hallway. While his tale started out strong, if a bit babbling, it wasn’t long before he began to cry slowly and his voice got smaller. By the time he finally ended with the worries and fears he had been living with the past year, Dis and Thorin could just about hear him speak. He didn’t need to tell anyone that he felt foolish, ashamed, and guilty—it was evident on his face.

            Of course, he didn’t look directly at his mother or uncle throughout his story. If he had, he would have seen two people who realized that they had a great deal of sympathy both for Kili and Fili.

            As Kili sat there sniffling, his mother came and sat beside him and wrapped an arm around his shoulders. It wasn’t long after that Oin came out to meet them.

            “Fili is awake,” Oin said to the general relief of the others. “But he is resting now. He has a mild concussion and will need a week of rest. And I _don’t_ want to hear that he went to training, meetings or any other nonsense!” Oin said the last to Thorin when the king looked as if he was going to protest the extended rest. “I will leave it up to his mother and brother to see that he stays in bed. He is only to get up when nature calls and that’s it!”

            Thorin sighed but nodded agreement.

            “If there is any change,” Oin said to Dis, “or worsening of his condition; increasing headaches, vomiting, he forgets himself or others, becomes unresponsive again, those sorts of things, you are to send for me immediately.” Dis nodded agreement. “Also, while he is recovering, you should expect mild headaches, he will most likely be easily upset or withdrawn and he will be very tired.” Dis again nodded and spoke of understanding. “I will send a nurse to sit with him for the rest of the day.”

            Oin took his leave and Thorin drew Dis away from Kili. While the young prince couldn’t hear what was being said, the two adults seemed relaxed and there was even a laugh or two from them. As Thorin made his way to the door, Dis’s voice stopped him.

            “Oh, and by the way,” Dis said sternly and with no humor in her tone. “You are _not_ to say anything to young Geirr!” Thorin opened his mouth to respond but Dis cut across him. “I mean it! You will only embarrass him and humiliate Fili!”

            Thorin held up his hands. “Peace, namadith,” Thorin said with an amused smile. “That was _never_ my intention. Of all people, you should know I’d be the last to do any such thing.”

            Dis let out a sigh. “I do know. I just—wanted to make sure.”

            Thorin gave her small smile and walked out, leaving Dis and Kili alone.

            “I am going to check on Fili,” Dis said. “I would like you to stay here.” Kili opened his mouth to respond but she cut him off. “I know you are worried, but I am also sure he is as worried for you as you are for him.”

            There was a knock on the door and Dis opened it to find a nurse there. She showed the woman to the boy’s bedroom and Dis stayed a bit longer before returning to Kili.

            “As I predicted,” Dis said giving Kili a smile, “his concern is for you alone. However, I would like us to talk before I release you to see him.” Kili didn’t say yes or no, but he wasn’t surprised. He followed Dis into her own room.

            Dis has a large bedroom with a generous sitting area in front of the fireplace and a table with chairs for taking suppers privately. She motioned for Kili to take a chair by the fire while she poured them something to drink—Dis was in the habit of always having a large pitcher of cold mountain water ready for her—she preferred to drink that during the daytime, always with the idea to keep her “wits about her at all times.” She handed a tankard of water to Kili before sitting the chair opposite from him.

            For several long minutes, mother and son sat without speaking; the only sound was the gentle crackle of the hearth. Kili felt incredibly guilty and wanted nothing more than to run to Fili’s side. His only worry was that, nothing he said would earn him the forgiveness he so desperately wanted.       

            As if reading his mind, Dis took a quiet breath and broke the silence. “Ghivashith,” she said softly. “I know you are dealing with a good deal of confusion and probably an even greater amount of guilt.”

            Kili only nodded in response—he didn’t trust his voice to keep steady.

            “I’m not going to sit here,” Dis said continuing, “and make you feel worse over your brother’s fall—you are doing a fine job with that yourself.” Kili looked at his mother and she wore a small smile. “I won’t say you are entirely blameless, but I will tell you that he doesn’t blame you and honestly, I will simply let the two of you work that out yourselves.” Kili nodded agreement and stared back down at his tankard. Suddenly, Dis had moved forward and she knelt in front of Kili and took a hand in hers. “Ghivashith, I know I don’t have to tell you about—puberty or the birds and the bees.”

            Kili was caught off guard, they had had that uncomfortable talk already, but he was mystified as to how it related here. “No, you don’t—but what does that have to do with Fili?”

            Dis smiled a little laugh. “Sweetheart, what happened between Fili and Geirr is related to all that.”

            Kili got wide-eyed. “Are you saying that Geirr is Fili’s One?”

            Dis huffed out a sigh. “No, ghivashith, they are not each other’s One.” Dis was going to smack her brother with all his One talk. “It’s just that, occasionally, Fili will need an—outlet, for his emotions and feelings. As most young people do during this time. Geirr and he were just—being each other’s outlet. And in this aspect of his life, he will seek others—or his own privacy, for this outlet. This is not an area that he will want to share with you.” Kili looked a bit more confused rather than understanding. Dis sighed again. “I don’t feel it’s my place to give you details regarding Fili’s habits or his— _friends_ ; I will leave that up to him to explain to you. Just know that his love for you hasn’t changed, he doesn’t hate you; what he is going through is completely normal and it has nothing— _nothing—_ to do with you.”

            Kili wasn’t sure what she meant but he did take comfort in that Fili didn’t hate him. Fili will talk and explain it all to him—that is, once he had forgiven Kili for nearly killing him.

            “Go on,” Dis said, moving back and standing up. “Go see your brother.”

            Kili was up like a shot and raced to his bedroom. However, he halted on the threshold when he took in the nurse sitting by the bed and Fili softly snoring.

            “Is he—” Was all that Kili got out.

            “He is just resting,” the nurse said gently. “I gave him a mild pain elixir, so he will probably be asleep for the next hour or so.”

            Kili nodded but remained standing there. He only wanted to talk to Fili, tell him was so, plead for forgiveness—beg if he had to, anything, just so long as Fili opened his eyes and looked at him and showed that he knew who Kili was. It slow torture to be this close and not know what end their conversation would be. Yes, he remembered what his mother had told him and yes, I knew that he had over-reacted, and yes, he knew he had a long way to go to mend what he himself had broken. But it was so much worse knowing that he had to wait to even just speak with Fili.

            Kili made to sit on the floor, determined to wait until his brother woke. If the nurse had any opinion on his waiting, she offered none. She offered neither words of comfort or reassurances, but Kili took her calm demeanor and unconcern as proof enough that Fili was alright. For now.

            As the day wore on, Kili could feel his own energy drain away. When Fili didn’t wake after an hour, the nurse said it was fine—he was breathing normally and there was no reason to worry. Kili then decided to go to the kitchens and bring up food for when Fili woke, nothing much, just crusty bread and cheese with grapes on the side and a large pitcher of his mother’s mountain water. Unfortunately, Fili did wake while he was gone for those twenty minutes but he had complained of a headache and the nurse gave him more pain elixir. Kili was disappointed in missing Fili but knew that he would rather his brother sleep and not be in pain then awake sole for Kili to selfishly beg his forgiveness. He sat on the floor and waited. He waited until he fell asleep on his own.

            He kept dreaming of being in a maze and calling for Fili, only for his brother to respond back but not be found. He could hear Fili’s voice clear as bell and he was almost starting to scream when he woke with a start.

            It took a few seconds to understand where he was. He was sitting in the chair by his bed—the nurse obviously gone, but he didn’t remember moving. He took a few deep breathes and just knew that it was very late at night. That was when he heard Fili.

            “What are you doing in the chair?” Fili said just above a whisper.

            Kili sprang forward and clutched at Fili’s hand. “How are you?” Kili said desperately. “Are you in pain?”

            Fili took a few breathes before responding. “Head hurts a little, but nothing like before.” Kili could just see Fili’s face in the dark. “Why are you sleeping in the chair though?”

            “I didn’t want to disturb your sleeping. Though, I was on the floor—I don’t remember moving to the chair.”

            “Maybe, Amad came in a told you to move? Or you just automatically did it? Who knows.” Fili shrugged. “Come to bed—you will be in more pain than me come the morning if you don’t.”

            Kili couldn’t stop himself now that he had Fili awake. “Fili, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean—”

            “Don’t, Kili,” Fili said a little groggily. “It was an accident. I don’t blame you.”

            “I do.”

            “I know—I know you do. We can talk in the morning—just come to bed.”

            “I don’t want to crowd you.”

            “If you don’t get into this bed, I will just get up and sleep with you in the chair.”

            That made them both chuckle and finally Kili made to move onto the bed. However, he thought of something. “Fili, do you want some pain elixir?”

            Fili was quiet for a few moments before answering. “You know, I won’t say no to that.”

            Kili moved to the bedside table on Fili’s side and pour a small amount of the poppy elixir and mixed it with some cool water and gave it to Fili to drink.

            “Yuck,” Fili gripped. “So disgusting,”

            “Better than pain, though,” Kili said, trying to be chipper.

            “Barely,” Fili answered dryly and that got another chuckle from Kili before he climbed in next to his brother.

            They lay next to each other for only a second or so, before Fili pulled Kili to him and snuggled together like two puzzle pieces. Kili was worried about injuring Fili more in the night but he decided that not only would he let Fili decide what was or wasn’t in his best interest, he also didn’t want to be anywhere else at that moment.

            “Azyung zu,” Kili whispered.

            “Azyung zu ya', zu serejel shand,” Fili whispered back.

            Within moments they were both asleep like a pair of peas in a pod.

 

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            Over the next few days, Kili tended to Fili—keeping him comfortable and company. Fili of course, hated being confined and even though the headaches mostly disappeared by the third day, Oin had come around and stated that Fili was to stay in bed for the full week; no argument. It was boring but Kili made sure to follow Oin’s orders and Fili kind of liked it just being Kili and himself all day.

            They made up the first morning. Kili was incredibly remorseful but Fili was as well. By the second day, they were back to themselves and by the third day, they were both laughing and treating the whole thing as one hilarious misunderstanding and joke.

            Of course, Fili opened up completely about what he was doing. Kili blushed a bit at first but Fili was so honest and frankly about the subject, that Kili actually started feeling that he was being schooled in ways of life. Fili told Kili what to expect in the way of emotions—how the sexual drive would just hit suddenly, how someone you never thought of in that way before were now viewed completely differently. He was open about masturbation and sex and told Kili that he hadn’t had much sex yet but that it was getting closer. He even told of Geirr and how the young Dwarf was more than willing and quite game for anything. Fili joked that if they thought his beard for full, Kili should see what grew in the Dwarf’s pants! They laughed and laughed and Fili told Kili that from then on, he would be more open with him—so that Kili wouldn’t ever feel that he was unwanted.

            It was that third night that everything changed.

            Fili had complained of another headache just before bed and had taken something for it. Kili had gone to bed at the same time—not wanting to go to bed later and chance waking Fili up. In the middle of the night, Kili woke to sounds of what he thought were distress. He turned over and quickly saw that Fili was actually dreaming. He was about to roll back over when he heard Fili say Geirr’s name. He watched as Fili rubbed his hand over his own crotch and Kili noticed Fili’s cock was rock hard, straining in his thin sleep pants. All the talk they had came flooding back in his mind and he remembered watching Geirr kneeling before Fili.

            _What was the harm,_ he told himself. _We shared so much else—why not my first time with the one person I love and trust most in the whole world._ Of course, he didn’t kid himself—part of him was scared. What if Fili woke up and was disgusted or truly ended up hating him? _No—that won’t happen. He said he would never hate me._

            Kili’s mind warred back and forth but his hand had a mind of its own. He gently tugged on the laces of Fili’s sleep trousers and immediately, Fili’s hardened prick sprang up. Fili let out a moan with the release but Kili didn’t hear him. Kili reached out and his hand closed around the thick, hot rod. Kili felt almost heady with the sensation of the pulsating member and he gingerly pulled down so that the foreskin exposed the tender head. Fili didn’t wake but he moaned and lifted his hips so that his dick thrusted in Kili’s hand. Kili was mesmerized as he just held his hand gently but firmly around the shaft, all the while Fili trusted his hips.

            Kili released Fili’s cock and that produced a groan of disappointment from his brother. But, Kili only moved down a bit in the bed, reached out and firmly took Fili’s cock in hand again, all the while inching closer to Fili’s erection. The smell was musky but certainly not off putting at all. As Kili pulled back the foreskin, he leaned forward and ran his tongue lightly over the tip of the head. Fili moaned—almost a whimper really, and that spurred Kili on. He did this a few more times, letting his saliva coat the upper half of Fili’s cock, then kissing the leaking tip.

            Fili’s breath started getting deeper, heavier and Kili shifted forward and took Fili’s length in his mouth. This made Fili groaned and Kili felt his brother’s hands gently hold on his head—holding Kili in place. The thrusting increased and Kili was so taken by the smell, the sensation and the sounds that he lost all sense of self and was filled with an overwhelming feeling of being one with Fili.

            But as suddenly it had started, it was over. Fili made a couple of deep, penetrating thrusts and then released a deep guttural growl as he flooded Kili’s mouth with his seed. Kili took it all and swallowed the bitter yet still wondrous taste that spoke purely of Fili.

            Kili licked his lips and started to reached out and lace Fili’s pants back up. However, both of Fili’s hands were already reaching for the laces and his voice stopped Kili dead.

            “Did you enjoy that,” Fili whispered quietly. The tone was unreadable and Kili wasn’t sure of Fili’s mood. Was Fili glad? Amused? Angry?

            After a second, Kili decided on honesty. “Yes. As a matter of fact.” Kili wasn’t going to be ashamed for what happened. Hurting his brother? That deserved shame. Giving him pleasure? Never!

            Fili huffed out a chuckle under his breath. “I can’t say I didn’t either.” Fili finished tying his pants and pulled at Kili to come up higher in the bed. He pulled them both close until their foreheads where resting together. “And how can I not be honored to be your first.”

            Kili was relieved that he was not going to be scorned for his actions. “Who said you were my first?” Of course, they both knew it was, but that didn’t mean Kili wasn’t above a little cheek.

            Fili laughed softy and then placed a kiss on his brother’s forehead. “Go to sleep, Ghivashith.”

            Kili nodded and fell into a deep sleep with dreams that were filled with warmth and sunshine. And Fili.

 

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            To say they talked of keeping their night-time activities secret was an understatement.

            There wasn’t a race in all Middle-Earth that would accept such an incestuous coupling. It was particularly reviled among the race of Men—although, there were stories. Elves viewed it as strange and repulsive—not that one could read any emotion on the face of an Elf. How the Halflings of The Shire viewed such things, the brothers couldn’t say, but seeing as Hobbits were related to the race of Men, they assumed it wasn’t done. And when it came to their own people, no matter how disproportionate the Dwarrow population was between male and female, no Dwarf would accept intimacy between siblings. Not even their mother—as opened minded as she was when it came to her boys, would not condone it.

            But as chance would have it, luck and inspiration struck together to bring a resolution that was beneficial to all.

            Since the fall, Fili and Kili had gotten into a simple daily routine. They would wake late, have a light breakfast, read a bit, have lunch with their mother, or uncle, or both, nap in the afternoon, have dinner and then spend the evening playing cards or games.

            On day five, just after lunch, there was a knock on the apartment doors. Kili went, since he still kept to Oin’s strict rules of only letting Fili up when nature called. When he got there, he was met by the last person he expected—but then, looking back on it, he had to laugh to himself because really, it should have been the first person to come around. Geirr had come to pay a visit.

            “Hello, Kili,” Geirr said pleasantly. “I just came by to see Fili. If it’s a good time of course.”

            Kili stood there for several seconds before returning Geirr’s smile. “Sure,” Kili said stepping aside and letting the Dwarf enter. “He’s just sitting up in bed.” Kili lead Geirr to the boy’s bedroom and poked his head in before the Dwarf entered. “Fili—you have a visitor.”

            Fili looked confused for just a moment and then his eyes widened as Geirr stepped inside. “Geirr.”

            “Hello, Fili,” Geirr said giving the prince a small but warm smile. “How are you feeling?” He walked in and sat on the bed near Fili’s knees as Kili had already taken the chair next to the bed.

            “I am doing fine, thank you,” Fili said still a little dazed that Geirr was there. “How did you know I was ill?”

            “Well, you haven’t been in any classes,” Geirr replied with a wryly smile. “Besides, his Majesty told me about your fall, but said I should wait to visit.” Geirr reached out and place a meaty hand on Fili’s knee in a show of comfort. It didn’t stay long but it was enough for Kili to notice. It was a quick gesture and while the last time he had seen Fili with Geirr he had felt overwhelmingly jealousy—that was not the feeling Kili was having now.

            As Fili and Geirr continued to talk quietly; Fili explaining about the fall, Kili got lost in his own thoughts. He was struck with how handsome Geirr was up close and he thought he really understood the attraction on Fili’s part. Geirr was kind and polite. He was good in his studies and excellent at weapons, having decided to take up double axes like their instructor, Dwalin. Add all that with his beautiful beard, steely-blue eyes and long brown hair—Kili found himself more than a little interested.

            “Kili,” Fili’s voice broke through Kili’s thoughts and brought him back to the present.

            “Sorry, I drifted away,” Kili said with a smile. Fili was looking at him inquisitively, but Geirr looked—worried? Kili wasn’t sure.

            “I was just telling Geirr why we had our fight—that you saw us.”

            “Oh, I see,” That told Kili why Geirr was worried.

            “I didn’t mean to cause trouble, Kili,” Geirr said quietly.

            “It was my fault, Geirr,” Kili replied honestly. “I misunderstood.”

            “Well, I hope this didn’t ruin our—you know, what we—I mean, I hope we can all still be—friends.” Geirr was really adorably shy.

            Kili truly was intrigued and suddenly, all the pieces fell into place.   Kili leaned forward a place a hand on Geirr’s knee. “I was hoping we could be more than just friends.”

            Geirr cheeks blushed beautifully and his eyes widened a bit.

            A quick glance to Fili, who wore an expression of surprise, was all the incitement Kili needed. “I mean,” Kili said, leaning closer still towards Geirr, “if one Durin is good—how much better would two be?” Geirr was now rooted to the spot and Kili let his instincts take over; he slowly moved his hand up the Dwarf’s thigh as he brought their lips together.

            It was his first kiss, his first _real kiss,_ and as Kili’s heart raced and heat flowed through his veins, he wondered fleetingly; how had he lived this long and not experienced this?! Oh sure, he had kissed Fili, and that was all well and good, but—but _this—_ this was passion and lust, fire and heat, it was like diving into the River Running and being swept away.

            It was glorious!

            The rest of the afternoon was spent with the three dwarfs naked on the bed. They all tried different positions and roles and nothing seemed to be off limits. Kili was thrilled by the fact that Geirr was a hairy beast already and yet, Geirr was titillated with Kili’s downy but muscular chest. Both Geirr and Fili seemed perfectly happy to share each other with Kili and suddenly the question of Kili and Fili being together in bed just didn’t seem to be an issue any longer.

            Once Fili had been released from bed rest, they were once again a pair. But now, they shared even more together. Geirr was a great, and the three of them stayed close friends but it didn’t take the brothers long to realize that there were plenty of Dwarfs and Dwarrowdams out there that would love nothing more than to partake of the two Durins. Guild members, miners, a few guards—even a visiting emissary from the Iron Hills once, where all ripe for the taking.

            And it didn’t end with Dwarrow. As they grew older, males and females of other races were just as willing; a few soldiers from a nearby town of Men and even an Elf once when they were in their fifties while out on patrol near the Grey Havens. The only race left _unsampled_ was Hobbit. They just never went to any Hobbit towns long enough. Even when they went to Bree with their Uncle for work, they never stopped over at any Hobbit settlement—Uncle preferred to camp while traveling through The Shire.

            Of course, when they turned of age and it was decided that they would go with Uncle Thorin’s company to retake Erebor, they were thrilled to find out that their burglar was going to a Halfling! They wondered if they would get the chance to buggar their burglar while on the quest, or at least have time before leaving Hobbiton to seduce another instead.

            Needless to say, those dreams came crashing down right from the start. They were leaving first thing the next morning after arriving so no time for scouting the locals, and while they thought Mister Boggins—or Baggins, was cute as a button, they could sense immediately that Bilbo was just not going to be an easy lay. They schemed for the first several days—giggling and laughing to each other, teasing the Hobbit in any effort to ingratiate themselves to him. But for whatever reason, Master Baggins was not buying what the brothers were selling. It was almost insulting!

            But then it was really their Uncle’s strange behavior that put the stopper on all their plans. They were convinced at first to Uncle Thorin’s dislike of Master Baggins—Thorin seemed fond of calling Bilbo burdensome, tiresome, soft, weak, and fussy, which earned Thorin a shift kick in the shins. Also, they honestly believed Mister Baggins held the same opinion of Uncle Thorin—Bilbo calling Thorin brooding, moody, insufferable, stubborn, pig-headed, and the boys’ favorite ‘dunder-head.’ Yet, with all the evidence bantered about, whenever the brothers caused any distress what-so-ever to the Halfling, their Uncle came down on them like Mahal’s hammer and, oddly, if they caused trouble for their Uncle, Bilbo would lecture them soundly about putting more pressure on the king than he already was burdened with! In the end, they figured out that Bilbo Baggins was off limits.

            However, no sex left the brothers plenty of free time to observe and grow more and more suspicious of their Uncle and Mr. Baggins— _interactions_. First Thorin always seemed hypersensitive as to Bilbo’s whereabouts, especially during attacks or through dangerous areas. Then Thorin saved Bilbo from falling off the cliff—even though he told Gandalf he wouldn’t be responsible. This was followed by their Uncle’s seeming uncharacteristically angry yet hurt, when it looked as if Bilbo had been left behind in Goblin Town. Of course, that was replaced with a very humble and strangely relieved look on Thorin’s face when Bilbo, in fact, turned up alive and well right behind them. But the real kicker was when Bilbo not only killed— _killed mind you,_ an Orc to save Thorin’s life but stood as a shield between him and Azog—AZOG THE DEFILER, The Pale Orc, of all beings—that things became clear to not just the brother’s but the whole company.

            Well, maybe not everyone. Oin was deaf and really didn’t notice anything that didn’t shout at him, and no one was really sure what Bifur knew at any given time. But on the whole, the majority of them knew by then.

            They were disappointed but happy all the same. They had grown as fond of Bilbo as they were of Uncle Thorin—actually, they already thought of the Hobbit as a second uncle. But it was more than just viewing him as a member of the family. The feisty Hobbit and the Dwarf king seemed made for one another, even when they fought like cats and dogs—a comparison that the brothers found out _didn’t_ sit well with either of the described.

            Oh well. What were two enterprising and handsome young Dwarf princes to do? Why, they simply decided to turn their attention onto another in the company. But as it turned out, the only one they were interested in, sadly, was also already claimed. In fact, claimed barely covered how unavailable the young Dwarf was! And the brothers agreed, as Mahal was their witness, the last thing they wanted to do was piss off Dwalin just to satisfy an itch!

            They just had to laugh. The two cutest members of the company—besides themselves of course—taken by the two fiercest and most possessive. What rotten luck! So, the brothers kept to themselves. It had been ‘just them’ before, so no problem. So what could go wrong, they thought.

            In a word? Tauriel.

 

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            Before the quest, no one had ever purposely, deliberately separated the two brothers. Even the three times before the Elves, had merely been chance. The trolls—when Fili was placed on the spit while Kili was left bagged on the ground. The Stone Giants—no one saw that one coming at all. And then the spiders—they had been at each other’s backs but they were both grabbed by separate spiders and wrapped up. No, those times were due to mindless creatures and circumstances; even the brothers knew that.

            But the Elves were different. They were far from mindless and they were supposed to be intelligent—regardless of what Uncle Thorin believed. However, no matter how much the Dwarfs yelled, demanded, pleaded or requested, the guards had no intention of listening and the brothers were split up. Fili and Kili had demanded to stay together—even just next to each other would have been fine, but no, the Elves took their requests and in a spirit of spite, locked the two Durins as far apart as possible.

            Fili would maintain long after that it was that separation that left Kili vulnerable to the Elf-maiden, and cursed it. Kili swore it had been fate, and blessed it.

            For the first time in his life, Kili knew what it was to stare in the eyes of another—those wondrous, star filled eyes of dark amber—and lose himself. He could hear her voice, even when she didn’t speak, down into his soul. His heart would race whenever she came into view and the sweet smell of her skin drove him to want to touch, to explore, to kiss—to taste. When he dropped his rune stone and she handed it back to him, Kili was convinced that he could still feel her warmth upon its surface as if the small talisman had been infused with the Elf-maiden’s very essence.

            She spoke of memories and starlight—he always felt the stars to be cold, dead things. And though she insisted that they were not so cold and distant, Kili was not totally convinced of their worth—for how could anything in this world, on this earth, in the sky—even in the next life, compare to her!

            It wasn’t until they were escaping that he realized the ache he felt at the idea of never seeing her again. Even when she rescued him after being shot by the Orc arrow, he knew he would have to leave her behind and the pain in his leg could barely compare to the pain in his heart.

            He had no idea that it would take that cursed Orc arrow to bring them back together; he had no idea that she would come looking for him. And she saved him—in so many ways, she saved him.

            Of course, it took a bit for her to admit that she came looking for him.

            She stayed with him as he recovered. Their conversations always light and her smile could make him feel as if he were floating and carefree; which made her laugh, because she said his voice made her feel grounded. They never talked of the future-nothing past tomorrow, or worries for the mountain and what may come between their races. They didn’t talk about what was happening between them. What for? It was clear—was it not? It was to Kili.

            In the end, no amount of talk would have saved them.

            The battle was terrible. Fili was there, right beside him—fighting to keep them alive. Once they were sure they would die. Three Orc Spearmen came at them, double bladed weapons frightening to look at and Kili just knew—their time had come. Yet, suddenly, as if by magic, all three spear carriers fell to their knees—the back of their thighs lay open for slash wounds, but there was no one behind them!   It only took a moment though of amazement to turn to joy and they finished the creatures off. They were saved.

            Or so they thought.

            So focused on the Orcs in front of them, neither one of them saw Bolg come up behind them and raise his sword. Fili was quicker in turning, just able to block a killing blow but Bolg rallied and sent the blond flying. Fili’s swords fell to the ground and Kili tried to attack but Bolg was quicker still and turned on him. Kili did what he could to block and parry but he had already begun to tire and was fast overwhelmed by Bolg’s rage.

            Suddenly, as Kili was brought to his knees by Bolg, there came a blur of green and flame and Tauriel was upon the great Orc in a whirl of blades; a fierce battle cry upon her lips. She spun and dodged, connecting again and again with Bolg’s sword. Despite their difference in size and weight, both Orc and Elf were equally matched in their skill and determination—Bolg hell-bent on destroying the Durin brothers and Tauriel fixed on defending the one she loved; neither willing to accept defeat.

            In the end, it was a bitter twist of irony that finished the battle. Tauriel had abandoned her bow for blades and yet she was brought down by an Orc arrow, as it lodged itself through her shoulder, giving Bolg the opening he needed to deliver a blow to her person and sending her reeling away and into the mud. Kili’s rage exploded out of him in a primal scream, and as Bolg came back around, Fili swung his sword and removed Bolg’s left leg from his body just as Kili swung his own weapon and removed the great Orc’s head from his shoulders.

            From a short distance away, someone shouted that the Eagles had arrived and Beorn, in giant bear form, had joined the fight, but Kili did not hear or see any of it—every sense of his being was focused on Tauriel.

            As gently as possible, Kili rolled Tauriel over and into his arms. He knew it was over. Bolg’s sword had cut a deep slice across Tauriel’s chest, up her neck and continued over her face; Kili could see bone at her cheek.

            He could only cry and hold her, fearing her already gone from him. But she was not.

            “Cry not, my love,” Tauriel’s whisper the only sound Kili could hear.

            “Please—don’t leave me,” Kili replied, as clear as he could through his tears.

            “I am not leaving,” Tauriel said, as she tried to smile. She reached up and placed a single, shaking finger to his heart. “I will be here—always.”

            Kili’s heart broke as the light of the stars faded from her eyes—leaving him alone in a world that he swore would never be bright for him again; a world that held no love for him.

           

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            Kili was happy for Fili; truly, honestly was.

            When Uncle Thorin mentioned in secret that he was planning on bring Uncle Bilbo’s closest cousins as a surprise for his birthday, both brothers were excited! They loved Bilbo so much and they wanted to make sure the surprise came off grandly. They quietly organized the room for Drogo and Primula. They made sure that fresh flowers would be available from Dale for the rooms as well. They even made sure their schedules were clear enough so that when the Hobbits arrived, the brothers could take them on a tour of the kingdom and occupy them while Thorin and Bilbo were out for afternoon to The Alcove.

            Sadly, it didn’t quite work out that way. First, the Hobbits arrived a bit earlier than expected. Ori took it upon himself to get them situated. Then there was so big fight between the guards that were sent out to accompany their Uncles, so Thorin and Bilbo had come back early; and by Mahal, was Uncle Thorin mad! Wow! The brothers were sadly requested by Dwalin to assist with the particulars, so their time was taken up—not with Hobbit tours, but with asking the four uninvolved guards questions and trying to figure things out. By the time they were all done, it was time to get ready for the party.

            Kili could see the minute Fili laid eyes on Opal Took, the blond Dwarf was lost. He had heard the stories of Dwarf’s finding their Ones. That sudden, near electric experience when all time and space seem to just stop for the span of a breath and your heart beats only for the being standing in front of you. It was so lovely sounding and romantic. He knew after the fact that his uncles had had a moment between them but they both denied it to themselves for awhile. He knew his mother had had it with his father. And now, he was bearing witness to it in his brother.

            Kili didn’t have that. He and Tauriel had something from the moment their eyes met, but it was quiet, like a warm summer breeze through trees; like the sound of rain on leaves; like the singing of gentle flowing water. Sadly, Kili has lost Tauriel too soon for him to find out if she was his One.

            But he was happy for Fili and he wanted his brother to be happy.

            It was crushing at first though. Even as the party started, Kili felt a bit left out. Oh, Opal was sweet as candy and talked to both brothers equally. By the time they sat for dinner though, there was no one else as far as Fili and Opal were concerned. His Uncle Bilbo gave Kili extra attention that night and while it was never said, Kili just knew that Bilbo was trying to sooth him. One more reason to love his Uncle Bilbo.

            As the weeks progressed, it was clear to everyone. His mother tried to intervene but Fili would have none of it, and frankly, it had been Opal’s quiet grace and dignity, not to mention clear headedness and intelligence that finally won Dis over. In the end, his mother seemed to be as taken with Opal as Fili was.

            Kili hadn’t been alone before and Fili’s sudden absence in his life was difficult to deal with. But he turned to his Uncles, who seemed more like parents anyway. Oh, he loved his mother, but his Uncles were different—Thorin giving blunt but straight forward advice, which was tempered by Bilbo’s tea and biscuits, along with gentle nudges in the right direction.   There were many a night where Kili would find himself in the royal couple’s apartments; Kili would sit on the floor so that Bilbo could braid his hair, all the while Thorin discussing the daily issues of the kingdom while Bilbo would offer advice and commentary. It was horribly domestic if one wondered about it, but Kili loved it.

            As the years went by, Fili and Opal had children. Kili loved his nephews so much! And while he didn’t get to spend much time with his niece, she was a lovely thing. But the children did the one thing that no one realized—they pushed Kili even further away and into the circle of his Uncles. Dis was all wrapped up with her grandchildren and Kili didn’t begrudge her that. Fili, of course, had his family and was taking on more and more from Uncle Thorin, even before the Abdication. Opal had her family to worry about, it was completely understandable. And Kili tried to focus on being Archer Captain but even that was a bit hollow—they were the ignored division of the army.

            It wasn’t until his Uncle’s abdication that Kili realized how much he stood alone. His Uncles and he had formed this unforeseen little family and now, they were about to leave Erebor for good!   He remembered hiding in the treasury that whole rotten day—desperate to think of something. But it was no good. He had come to the conclusion that he would leave as well. Maybe he could go to Rivendell or to another settlement of Dwarfs. He played with the idea of returning to the Blue Mountains. And there was always the Iron Hills—although, while he liked Dain and his son, Thorin Stonehelm, the Iron Hills Dwarrow were just not that friendly a bunch.

            In the end, it took a guard to drag him out and into the warm embrace of his Uncles. And it was in that cocoon of family that Uncle Bilbo had told Kili he could come to The Shire with them.

            It was in The Shire that Kili learned—finally learned those lessons he had had trouble with his whole life. He learned who he truly was and what was important. He learned that standing tall didn’t mean standing on pride. He learned what it meant to have integrity in oneself.

            He learned how to be himself—alone.

            And he found something he _never_ thought to find again. He would always love Tauriel. Always. No matter how many lovers he took, none could touch Tauriel and her eyes that shone with star light. Until he met a boy with eyes the color of a summer sky and that sparkled like sunshine on clear water. And Kili thought, maybe—just maybe, his heart was big enough for two.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Khuz-dul Translations**  
>  Adad - father  
> Amad – mother  
> âzyung zu – I love you  
> Azyung zu ya' – I love you also  
> Zu serejel shand – you bare/empty brain (idiot) – meant affectionately  
> Ghivashith – treasure that is young (little treasure)  
> Nam hubma = to kiss the bottom (body part) – kiss my ass  
> Namadith – sister that is young (little sister)  
> Nûlukh – The Moon  
> Ûrzud – The Sun
> 
> \------------
> 
>  **PREGNANCY:** (This is strictly my head canon)  
>  I figured that Middle-Earth was comparable to Britain in the Middle Ages. With that in mind, the average age of a Man, if he lived to age twenty-one, would be sixty-four.  
> Since the other races of Middle Earth lived longer, it would mean that their pregnancies would be longer as well. Hobbits were related to Men and lived to about one hundred years, so I think the average Hobbit pregnancy lasted about eleven months. Dwarrow lived about two-hundred-fifty years, so I imagined that Dwarrow pregnancies would be twice as long as Men; eighteen months.  
> (I can ONLY imagine how long the Elves – immortal as they are – would be pregnant for!)  
> http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Life_expectancy
> 
> \------------
> 
>  **MATURITY:** (This is strictly my head canon)  
>  The race of Men, as we know, come of age at eighteen and enter puberty at around ten to twelve. Hobbits come of age at thirty-three (this is canon), and enter as sort of late puberty in their twenties – the “tweens.”  
> Dwarrow come of age at about seventy (although not outright stated in canon - Gimli wasn’t allowed to go with Thorin’s Company when they retook Erebor because he wasn’t of age – but he was sixty-two at the time, while Fili and Kili were eighty-two and seventy-seven, respectfully). But as for puberty, I figured, again, as they matured much slower than Men, I thought they would enter puberty around early twenties. Fili entered his later because Kili was about to enter his – they were so in sync that Fili was always a little later in doing things while Kili did things a little early. This can happen in real life with close siblings.


	13. Distant Relations - Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kili closes the distance

 

 

_05/14/2990_

_My dearest Uncles,_

_By the time you receive this message, I will have resumed my trek east.  My five day rest in Rivendell has been like a balm after three weeks on the road.  (Lord Elrond has promised to see the pony home from Rivendell)._

_Lord Elrond has been most gracious in his hospitality and he has promised me an escort through the_ _Misty_ _Mountains_ _.  I made no mention to him of Erebor’s situation but somehow he was already aware._

_If it is of any comfort to you, know that his reproach of my actions has been severe and he has each day, more than once, urged me to return to The Shire._

_But I cannot._

_Uncles, I know that you are angry and for that I am truly sorry.  I never wanted to cause you pain, but I felt I had no choice; I must make this journey._

_I will continue to send you word as often as I can so that you know that I am safe._

_Although I little deserve it, I ask your forgiveness._

_All my love, Kili_

\-----oooooOOOOO88888OOOOOooooo-----

 

 

_05/27/2990_

_My dearest Uncles,_

_After nearly two weeks of travel, I have arrived at Beorn’s.  He was amused at my arrival and I was able to gain his welcome easily with tales of The Shire and of my journey so far.  Of course, I have not told him of the unrest in the mountain but strangely, like Lord Elrond, he was already aware._

_I will rest here for a few days and then make for the Elven Gate of Mirkwood.  Before I departed, Lord Elrond stated that he would send a message personally for an escort through the forest to lessen the danger and speed my journey._

_And before you shout yourself hoarse Uncle Thorin, I had asked Lord Elrond to not only keep secret my identity from Thranduil, but also the nature of my travels and the situation in Erebor.  Although, he doubts the Woodland King is blind to troubles of the_ _Lonely_ _Mountain_ _._

_Beorn told me that he will be sending this letter by owl post!  I saw the creature last night – I have never seen an owl so huge or white in my life!  I hope it does not scare anyone.  Well, except maybe Mrs. Sackville-Baggins!_

_Please give my regard to Frodo and know that I love and miss you all very much._

_All my love, Kili_

\-----oooooOOOOO88888OOOOOooooo-----

 

 

_06/19/2990_

_My dearest Uncles,_

_You will not believe who met us at the Elven gate – none other than the prince of the_ _Woodland_ _Realm!  You should have seen his face when he saw me!   I almost laughed out loud.  Of course, I doubt he will keep my secret from his father, although he said he would when I beseeched him to do so.  We will see._

 _My trek through_ _Mirkwood_ _Forest_ _lasted ten days, then it was another week to Laketown and now I am currently in Dale._

_Oh Uncles, you cannot imagine the terrible emptiness that is Dale.  The city feels deserted and haunted.  At night it is mostly dark, as so many homes and buildings sit empty.  My footsteps echo through the streets, making the entire city sound like a tomb.  The people seem to go about in a daze and I have yet to see a smiling face on any of them._

_If our kith and kin think that they are the only ones to blame the Men of Dale for the plague, then they are grievously mistaken.  The few I have talked to blame themselves and feel that they have done us a great harm!  I weep for the pain that is not theirs to carry.  I am angry that our people have so little sympathy for the people of Dale, especially as they have lost so much more then we have._

_I must finish now.  Please give warmest regards to Frodo and I will write again as soon as I can._

_As always, much love to you all, Kili_

            Kili folded and sealed the letter before standing up and proceeding to the post.  When he walked into the station, Kili was ready for sending his message by the fastest rider possible but was surprised to see a few ravens there.  The postmaster said that they were for urgent messages to Erebor, but of course, there had been no communication from the mountain, except to King Bain, for months now.  Kili paid the man double the price and sought the services of the raven.

            Kili was unsure if the ravens would go as far as The Shire.  These were trained and rarely did anything that wasn’t either in their usual routine or not to their liking.  However, a few well chosen words in Khuz-dul and a few nuts from his rations, and a raven took his letter from him and headed off.   

            Kili knew it was wrong not to give an address to his Uncles to send a return letter.  Mahal only knew what the length of _that letter_ would be!  He was sure that Uncle Thorin would go on and on at length and he was equally sure that Uncle Bilbo would have a thing or two to share as well.  He could wait for that lecture in person.

            Kili returned to the small inn he was staying at; ordered a dinner of soup, bread and cheese to be brought to his room in half an hour and then retired to the bathing room to clean up.  Twenty minutes later, he was relaxing on his bed and wondering when his “contact” would show up.  He almost laughed at that.

            There was a knock on the door and it opened to reveal a hunched old man wearing a cowl, bearing his supper tray.  Kili turned to reach for his coin sack when a familiar voice stopped him dead.

            “You know,” Nori said in a slick voice, “I thought I taught you better than to turn your back on a stranger.”

            Whipping around, Kili realized the “old man” was Nori in disguise and burst into laughter as he ran to hug his old friend.

            “I was wondering when I would see you!”  Kili said, stepping back from Nori.

            “Well, you weren’t exactly traveling in secret, now where you?”  Nori gave the prince a smug smile.  “Or, I pray, you weren’t deluding yourself into thinking you were.”

            Kili chuckled at that.  “Hardly,” he gave Nori a knowing look.  “It might have been secret when I left The Shire, but I had a feeling _you_ would know before I left Laketown.”

            Nori took a seat and motioned for Kili to do the same, wherein, he sat on the edge of the bed.  “ _Laketown_?” Nori just cocked an eyebrow at the prince.  “Kili, I knew you were headed this way before you reached Rivendell.”  Kili’s mouth started opening and closing like a fish’s.

            Nori produced a letter and handed it to Kili to look over.  It was clearly marked for Erebor and addressed to the Captain of the Guards, but nothing beyond that.  It made no sense, in fact it read as pure nonsense – it talked about birds, cats and bears, flowers and clouds, rivers and trees.   Kili just shrugged his shoulders.

            “It’s in code,” Nori said.  “Years ago, Thorin, Dwalin and I realized that there would be situations were information should be kept between just the three of us.   And since you aren’t a threat, I’ll enlighten you – a bit.”  However, Nori did take back the letter so Kili couldn’t follow along.  “Bear refers to Thorin, while any flower refers to Bilbo.  Clouds indicate travel or journey, while trees refer to Elves.  Depending on how the letter is constructed, tells us the when, why, how, who and so forth.

            “This letter arrived just two weeks after you left Bag End.  Thorin states he sent a message to Lord Elrond that you were probably stopping at Rivendell and asked Elrond to inform Beorn.  Thorin also wrote King Bain to detain you after you enter Dale and then contact Dwalin.  At which point, Thorin instructs Dwalin to personally escort you back to The Shire.”

            Kili was stunned.  He thought he was being so clever.  Of course he should have known better than to expect his Uncles to just let him go unchecked.  But still!

            “Where did I go wrong?”  Kili said in a flat tone.

            “Obvious,” Nori countered.  “You took the easy way.  If you had gone through Ered Mithrin and approached from the north, you would have gone unseen.”

            Kili huffed out a laugh.  “Oh yeah, and been attacked by Orcs or Drakes.”

            Nori just shrugged.  “You could have gone around the furthest point of Mirkwood and approached from the south.”

            That deserved an eye roll and Kili was glad to give it.  “Right, and had to pass through or near, Khazad-dum, Lothlorien and Dol Guldur?  No thank you.”

            “Well,” Nori said with a satisfied grin, “there you go.  As a lone traveler, you took the quickest, safest and best known track.  You really can’t be surprised that your Uncle would figure that out and be one step ahead of you.

            “Oh, and I have a letter, here that Thorin sent to Bain to give to you, _after_ , he had you in custody.” 

            “You stole it from King Bain?”  Kili was stunned.

            “Not stole,” Nori said with a scowl.  “I liberated it.  I mean, it is yours after all.”  Nori handed Kili an envelope with Thorin’s distinct handwriting and noticed the seal was broken.

            “Did Bain open this?”  Kili was stunned.

            “Of course not!”  Nori looked offended on the King’s behalf.

            Kili sighed.  “You opened it, didn’t you?”

            Nori just shrugged his shoulders.  “Well, of course I did!  How else could I have read it?” 

            Kili huffed out a laugh and shook his head.  He pulled out the letter and cringed.

 

 

 

_05/21/2990_

_Nephew,_

_I have no words to describe the amount of pain and hurt you have caused.  It was all I could do to keep your Uncle Bilbo calm – and Frodo from running out the door after you on this fool’s errand.  I had to watch them fret over your well being each night before your first letter arrived._

_I have no doubt they will continue to do so until you are home again._

_If you make it home that is!_

_I have not written to your mother or brother for fear that any letter may go amiss and those that may want to harm you find you instead.  I have, however, written to Dwalin and he should be arriving soon to escort you back to Bag End now that King Bain has detained you._

_You stood before us and said you understood the severity of the situation and you swore that you would not do the very thing you did._

_Am I angry, hurt and disappointed?  Yes – but not because you ran off._

_But because you lied._

_Thorin_

            Kili felt a lump in his throat; he thought it would choke him if it got any bigger.  It was one thing to incur his Uncles’ anger or rage – they’ve yelled at him before.  But somehow, knowing that Uncle Bilbo was so worried and that Uncle Thorin was disappointed made it all so much worse.  By Mahal, he had even upset Frodo. 

            But what struck him was the obvious lack of his name, the absence of Uncle Thorin’s familiar title, and no closing declaration of affection – no closing declaration at all!

            “I’m surprised,” Kili said in a quiet voice, “that Uncle Thorin didn’t have someone detain me before now.”

            “Rivendell has no dungeons;” Nori said matter-of-factly, “not that Elrond would have locked you up even if he had one.  Beorn wouldn’t have detained you and I am sure your Uncle would have rather died than ask Thranduil to do it!   I don’t think your uncle would ask Thranduil to wipe his pony’s ass if it came to it – but that is another story.”

            “So,” Kili asked, “are you going to tell Bain I’m here?”

            “Nope.”

            “Thank you.”

            “No need,” Nori shrugged, “he already knows you’re here.”

            “What?!”  Kili’s jaw dropped.

            “You have about,” Nori glanced at the clock over the mantel, “twenty minutes before the guards arrive to detain you.”

            Kili totally deflated and hung his head.  “So it’s over.  Two months of travel and I get caught basically at the foot of the mountain.”

            “I thought you wanted to see Fili?”

            “I do!  But what do you suggest – make a run for the front gate?!”

            “No,” Nori said with a smirk.  “But you could sneak in the back door.”  Kili watched at Nori seemed to produce Thrain’s key out of thin air.

 

 

\-----oooooOOOOO88888OOOOOooooo-----

 

 

            They barely made it out of the building without being caught.  It took a couple of minutes longer then he thought to grab all of his things and stuff him in his travel pack, but Kili managed to hurry after Nori down the back stairs and hide in a storage closet as the Dale Guards rushed up to what was his room.  The two slipped out the back, made so many turns down deserted alleys that Kili was dizzy and then finally out a small opening in the city’s walls. 

            The fields were dark and Nori said they couldn’t risk using any sort of lantern to light their way.  But, the spymaster seemed quite familiar with the route they were taking – Kili decided not to ask how he knew, and they were soon on a narrow curving path towards the large statue of Thror to the left of Erebor’s main gate.  They would have to take the hidden stairs in the dark but Nori stated that the moon should offer enough light to make it, _relatively_ safe.  Again, Kili didn’t ask.

            Kili had many questions but kept them to himself until they were well away from the city.   They had a couple of miles to go and were only about a quarter of the way there when Kili decided it was safe to speak.

            “Thank you,” Kili said, just loud enough for Nori to hear, “for getting me out of there.”

            “Nah,” Nori shrugged his shoulders, “this just saves Dwalin from having to go all the way to Dale to get you.”

            Kili stopped for a second, speechless. 

            “I’m joking,” Nori said when he realized Kili believed him serious.  “If I was really going to let Dwalin take you, I wouldn’t have even bothered.”

            “Why did you bother?”  Kili was curious.

            Nori sighed and was silent for a few seconds.  “Because I know what it’s like to miss a brother.”

            “I’m sorry for your loss, by the way,” Kili was sorry he hadn’t said anything sooner.

            “Which loss are you talking about?”  Nori sounded a little bitter.  “Dori, or Ori?”

            “I guess both,” Kili said sheepishly.

            “Well, I will admit, it’s not been easy.”

            “Which one are you talking about?”  Kili said, mirroring Nori’s question.

            There was a barely audible chuckle.  “Like you said, I guess both.”

            Kili was silent for a minute before he couldn’t hold back.  “What happened?”

            Nori didn’t answer immediately but Kili could hear him taking deep breathes.  Finally, in a low, thick voice that Kili could just about hear, “One brother died, another went insane and a kingdom fell.”

            “What does that mean?” Kili has no idea what Nori was talking about.

            “It means,” Nori hissed, “that you should ask someone else.”

            Kili was taken aback, but couldn’t blame the Dwarf; Nori had lost both brothers in a short period of time.  The Ri brothers, as odd as they seemed, were still known to be very close.  _Almost as close as Fili and I._

            “I’m sorry, Nori.  I didn’t mean to upset you.”

            Nori sighed.  “It’s just too much for me right now.”

            Suddenly Kili was starting to feel that maybe it all was a mistake; he had lied to his Uncles, hurt and disappointed them and Frodo – who was the last person he wanted to injure, he had caused trouble for Dwalin and Nori and now he was sneaking into the mountain like a thief when his brother, the king, had specifically told him not to come.

            But then he reminded himself that this entire trip was for Fili.  He had to see him, had to know he was alright.  He’d worry about it everything else later.

            They traveled the rest of the way in silence until the stairway.  Nori stopped and Kili realized that there was a large pack hidden by the first step.  When opened, Nori pulled out two large, cloaks.

            “Here, my prince,” Nori said jokily as he handed one to Kili, “stow your other cloak and put this on.”  Nori was already pulling off his and putting on the second cloak from the pack.

            “Why change?”

            “Because even in moonlight – even from a distance, your dark cloak will stick out against the mountain as we climb.  These others are the same color as the stone; they will allow us to blend in should someone, by chance, get close enough to see us.”

            Kili had to admit, it would never have dawned on him.  He rolled his old cloak up like a bedroll and placed it under his pack’s flap, and put on the stone grey cloak Nori had handed him.

            They climbed as quickly as they could and yet remain safe; again, they could not risk using any light source and had to contend with moonlight.  Some three-quarters of an hour later, they stood on the ledge that they had finished their long quest on forty-nine years earlier.  Now was the time for light and Nori produced a tiny torch and flint from his own pack.  There were a few sparks and then flame.  It didn’t take long for them to find the tiny, hidden keyhole. 

            Kili had the feeling of shandind gagin* as he watched the secret door push inward and felt the rush of air into the opening.  They folloed the narrow passage down to the treasury and then put out the light.  Stopping to check to see if anyone was around, the both exited and ducked around the nearest corner.  Once again, Nori produced a small key and found a tiny keyhole that Kili could barely see, pushing on the wall to expose another passage that looked newer.

          “I had no idea this was here,” Kili whispered as Nori pulled him into the dark passageway and closed the door.  Again, there were a few sparks then Nori's small torch ingnited.

          “Few did,” Nori said.  “When Thorin had the new apartments commissioned for Bilbo, Dwalin and I told him that there should be an escape route for the royals, just in case.”

          “I never knew that!” Kili said, handing over the grey cloak Nori had given him.

          “That’s because, other than the king, only the captain of the guards and myself, know of it.”

          “Where does it lead to?  Or, rather, come from.”

          “There is a hidden door in the corridor outside The Shire apartment.”

          Kili chuckled.  “Is that what they are called now?”  He remembered the beautiful Hobbit inspired apartment that Uncle had commissioned as a surprise for their tenth wedding anniversary.  Thorin had done all he could to make Bilbo feel like he had a bit of The Shire here in the mountain.

          “Until recently, it’s remained unoccupied and available should Thorin and Bilbo ever visit or come back.  People started referring to it as The Shire apartment until it stuck.”  Nori motioned for Kili and they started the steep ascent towards the royal wing.  

          Kili liked the fact that instead of steps, it was a smooth sloping surface.  He could only guess that Thorin had asked to make it so escape would be quick and easy and lower the risk of Bilbo tripping.  _Leave it to Uncle to think of Bilbo’s comfort and safety at all times._

          When they reached the end, Kili grabbed Nori’s arm before he could open the door.  “I take it you are placing me in The Shire apartment?”

          “Of course,” Nori said, perplexed.

          “How are you going to get Fili to come there for me to see him?  Or do you have another plan for getting us in the same room?”

          “Yeah,” Nori smiled sardonically, “I was thinking about parading you around Erebor for all to see.”  Nori just shook his head.  “Since the Queen’s death, Fili hasn’t wanted to sleep in their bedroom so he comes here at night.”

          “What about guards?”

          “Guards are here only if the King is inside.  He won’t be retiring for another hour or more.  Just hide somewhere and wait for him to come.”

          Kili nodded and watched as Nori pressed some hidden mechanism and the door swung silently inward.  Nori put out his torch and as they peered out, there was, indeed, no sign of a guard.  Nori rushed over to the round, double doors, picked the lock and then motioned for Kili to come over.

          “Now,” Nori said, pushing Kili inside.  “Hide your hairy butt somewhere and _don’t_ show yourself unless you know Fili is alone.”  Nori made to move but Kili’s voice stopped him.

          “Thank you again, Nori,” Kili said, grasping Nori on the shoulder.  “I appreciate all you have done.”

          “You can show your appreciation by _not_ getting caught and _not_ turning me in if you do!”  Nori fished in his pockets, pulled out a small candle and matches then pushed them into Kili’s hand.  The spymaster lifted up his hood and was gone in a swirl of cloak, closing and locking the door behind him.

          It was now pitch black and Kili lit the candle quickly.  He saw that everything was as he remembered, silver candlesticks on the green marble table, circular entryway hearth.  He wondered if he should light a fire and decided that a maid would probably come to light the fire in the bedroom if anything.  He made his way there and saw that, indeed, the hearth was filled with wood and just waiting for a flame.  He placed the candle in the hearth, under the kindling and watched as the room slowly illumined as the fire grew.

          Except for newer linens and pillows, the bedroom was just as his Uncles had left it.  Even the white Warg rug still rested in front of the fireplace.  He hid his pack in the dark corner next to the wardrobe and started removing his weapons and clothes.

          _Nori said I had an hour or more before Fili gets here – I think a quick wash would be in order._ He didn’t need a full bath – had that earlier, so after dying off, he went to wardrobe and removed a pair of Fili’s sleep pants and a light tunic.  He looked about the room and realized that the dark corner, furthest from the door, was a good place to hide in case someone came in.

          Sitting on the couch, he revealed in the warmth of the fire until he heard the outer door open.  He moved quickly and silently to the far corner and watched as a maid came in and stop dead to look at the fire.  She shook her head and he heard her murmur about someone else lighting the fire, wondering why they couldn’t have told her so as not waste her time, etc.  He held down a laugh until her heard the door close and returned to the fireplace.

          Not twenty minutes later, Kili heard the door open again and moved to the corner.  He almost leaped from hiding as Fili walked into view and started removing his crown and robes.  However, no sooner had he had the thought when a kitchen maid walked in carrying a large tray and placing it on the small table his Uncles had used for private meals. 

          “Is there anything else you require, your majesty?”  The young girl asked.

          “No, thank you,” Fili said quietly and Kili noted the deep, almost emotionless tone.  “Please tell the guards I do not want to be disturbed by anyone unless it is an emergency.”

          “Yes, your majesty,” the girl curtsied and left. 

          As the sound of the door closing echoed back into the room, Kili watched Fili slowly undress.  Kili noted the slumped shoulders and slow movements; exhaustion seemed to pour off his brother.  As the firelight caught Fili’s face, Kili saw deep lines upon his brow and dark shadows under his eyes.  His brother looked decades older and there were even white strands in his dull and straw-colored hair, which had once been a golden mane. 

          As Fili was finally down to his under tunic and pants, Kili stepped from the shadows.  “Fili,” he said quietly.

          Quick as a flash, Fili drew his sword and whipped around.  His eyes widening as his brother slowly came towards him. 

          “Kili?” the king whispered in stunned disbelief.

          Kili just gave him a smile as Fili dropped his sword and met him halfway.  His brother looked him up and down and slowly reached out with both hands, gently placing them on Kili’s shoulders.  Fili’s breath started to become ragged while his grip tightened almost uncomfortably, and then Kili was slowly pulled into a cocooning embrace as Fili buried his face the crock of Kili’s neck.  But as Kili wrapped his arms around his brother, what little resolve Fili had crumbled and he let lose great tearing sobs.

          Kili’s own tears spilled over and he murmured into his brother’s ear, “It’s all right; just let it go.”  Kili slowly rocked his brother in his arms.  “Let it all go.”

          Kili realized right then, if he had to do it all again, he would make this trip a thousand times.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Khuz-dul Translations**  
>  Ered Mithrin – Grey Mountains. North of Mirkwood and Erebor.  
> shandind gagin – vision again (Dwarrow déjà vu – which means “already seen”)


	14. Distant Relations - Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kili saves the day, and the kingdom

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> KUDOS TO AUTHORESSJEAN FOR INSPIRING ME TO GET THIS CHAPTER DONE!! If you haven't read any of her THE CHANGED FUTURE series - why not?!? it's FAUBLOUS!!
> 
>  **Khuz-dul Translations**  
>  Ûrzud – (my) Sun  
> Nûlukh – (my) Moon  
> Azyung zu – I love you  
> Azyung zu ya', zu serejel-shand – I love you too, you idiot

 

            They ended up on the bed, face to face, like a mirrored image-just like when they were children. Dinner was forgotten and now, Kili slowly ghosted his fingers through Fili’s hair which always calmed his brother down – in fact, it calmed them both down. It pained him to see his brother so care-worn; dark circles and sallow skin evidence enough of the toll his wife’s and children’s deaths and the harsh, uncertain fraternity of the mountain had taken on him.

            Without opening his eyes, Fili reached up and cupped the back of Kili’s head and brought their foreheads together. Their breaths mingled and Kili continued to stroke Fili’s mane.

            “You know you shouldn’t have come,” Fili whispered between them, “but I will not say that I am unhappy that you are here.”

            Kili smiled, rubbing their noses together. “I couldn’t stay away Fili. I just couldn’t.” Fili nodded but said nothing else and Kili leaned forward to press a kiss to the apple of Fili’s cheek.

            Kili closed his own eyes and thought back on their lives together. So in sync were they, that many thought them twins, although five years lay between them. So inseparable that some even suggested they were each other’s Ones and a few bold, or crass, individuals, depending on your view, snickered at what else they might have shared in their room at night. Of these last ones, Dis had taken care of them – either with harsh words or her iron-like fists, but none dared say it ever after.

            _If only mother knew the truth_ , Kili thought.

            From an early age they did joke about being each other’s Ones simply because no one else understood them. They did act like twins; from their own coded and nonverbal way of communicating, to their shared likes and dislikes, right down to their devotion and protection of each other. They even finished each others sentences or spoke aloud the thoughts of the other.

            As they matured, they realized that in many other areas they were better together than apart; school lessons, training lessons, even hunting was better when they worked together. On the quest for Erebor, they took watch together, scouted together, and just like at home, slept next to each other.

            No, they had always been together, two of a kind, birds of a feather, two peas in a pod, two gems cut from the same brilliant stone their mother would say. But that had changed now; they had matured really.

            The fire was dying down and Kili gently tried to disentangle himself from his brother’s grasp.

            “Don’t go,” Fili said, tightening his grip but not opening his eyes.

            “I’m just going stoke the fire,” Kili freed himself after that and tended the fire until it was once again a blaze and the room seemed almost to warm. He didn’t need a clock in the mountain to tell time; it was just after midnight.

            Kili crawled back into bed and before he had even settled, Fili had pulled him close, tucking Kili under his chin as he had when they were younger and Kili was the smaller of the two. Kili didn’t mind; if it brought his brother comfort, then it brought him comfort as well.

            “Go to sleep, Ûrzud,” Kili said.

            “I already am, Nûlukh,” Fili replied.

            “Azyung zu,” Kili whispered.

            “Azyung zu ya', zu serejel-shand,” Fili whispered back.

            There was only the sound of the fire crackling and popping in the hearth, but neither of them heard it as sleep had already taken them.

 

\-----oooooOOOOO88888OOOOOooooo-----

 

            Warmth; it was the first thing that really registered for him. It wrapped around him and penetrated him right down to his bones and frankly, Kili had no desire to move. Thoughts of Uncle Bilbo’s second breakfast played in his head. Perfectly fried eggs and ham played in his mind while he could almost taste the soft, crumbly scones Bilbo was near famous for. Of course he would have to fight Uncle Thorin for those but knowing Uncle Bilbo, there was a plate hidden just for his Dwarf-husband—so unfair!   Of course, Frodo would sneak behind him and snag the ones he would be lucky to acquired, but he didn’t mind that—he’d gladly share anything with Frodo!

            Just like when he and Fili—

            Kili shot up in bed and pulled the heavy furs and soft woolen blankets off his head. He wasn’t in Bag End, he was in Erebor, in his Uncles’ old apartment and there was Fili smirking at him from the dining table Thorin and Bilbo had eaten at all those years ago.

            “Good morning, _your highness_ ,” Fili said between bites of something that smelled very tasty.

            “G’morning,” Kili said as sleep rapidly receded from his mind. “What time is it?”

            “About an hour after sunrise,” Fili answered then stuffed a whole boiled egg into his mouth.

            Kili extracted himself from the detritus of the bed and made his way over to the table, wrapping a thin blanket around his shoulders.

            As in his dream, there were eggs, smoked meat—looked like venison, potatoes, warm soda bread and a pitcher that looked like juice of some kind; probably apple knowing Fili.

            “When did all this arrive?” Kili asked, filling his plate before sitting down.

            “Not a quarter hour ago,” Fili drank a large gulp of the juice before attacking the potatoes. “You didn’t even move when I covered you in the furs.”

            “Yeah, well you try traveling eight weeks on the road, live off skinny rabbits and berries, sneak into a closed Dwarrow kingdom, hide in the king’s quarters and see how wide awake you are the next day.”

            Fili laughed; the sound was much more pleasant than the tears of the night before. Kili would gladly take laughter at his expensive—although he knew it wasn’t really aimed at him, over the sounds of the heartbreaking pain that his brother had released upon their reunion.

            “So,” Fili said, sitting back and nursing a cup of hot tea; a habit that both brothers had picked up from their Uncle Bilbo. “What to do with you.”

            Kili nearly chocked on a piece of toast. “Do _what_ with me?”

            “Just wondering how to hide you from the entire mountain,” Fili said as he stuffed half a potato in his mouth.

            “Why hide me at all?” Kili asked as he dug into his breakfast.

            Fili shot him a raised brow. “You so remember you’re banished, right?”

            Kili rolled his eyes. “So?  You’re king.  Have them nullify the stupid banishment, be done with it.”

            “Kili, it’s not that easy.”

            “Sure it is,” Kili shrugged. “Our Uncles have no intention of coming to Erebor to challenge you or make trouble—or come at all for that matter! And I want to help.”

            “Kili,” Fili said with a tired huff. “You just don’t understand.”

            “I understand,” Kili said with a shake of his head. “Maybe better than you think I do.”

            Fili sighed. “Maybe we can put you in with Thrain and Vili.”

            Kili’s mood was slowly heading downward. “I’m not hiding with the Dwarflings!” _Mahal’s balls, I’m a grown Dwarf for Eru’s shake!_

            “When mother finds out—” Fili suddenly stood up, wide-eyed and looking fearful.  “I forgot that mother is coming here this morning!” Fili started looking around frantically, obviously trying to find the best hiding places.

            “So what?” Kili stated. He wasn’t afraid and frankly, he thought it was the best. “What’s she going to do? Put me over her knee?”

            They both heard the apartment doors open and Fili rushed out, only to meet one of his guards before they could enter the bedchamber and see Kili.

            Kili heard the guard state that Dis was outside and wanted to see the King. Fili fumbled for words but ended up telling the guard that he needed a few minutes and tell Lady Dis that he would come out and fetch her. A few moments later Fili came back into the bedroom.

            “Ok, mum’s—” Fili started.

            “Yeah. I heard,” Kili said.

            “Kili!” Fili hissed. “Are you insane? You can’t be seen!” Kili was not moving. “Look, just—hide in the wardrobe or—get back in the bed under the covers or something, because as soon as she—” Fili didn’t get to finish.

            “What is this nonsense,” Dis said as she marched into the bedchamber. “That you will _‘come fetch me’_ when—” Dis came to an abrupt, gape-mouthed, wide-eyed, face-paling halt as she saw Kili sitting at the table.

            “And good morning, mother dearest,” Kili said, with an innocent smile.

            There was all of about three good seconds of silence, followed by a perfectly timed _pop_ from a log in the fire that seemed to be the signal for the chaos to start. His mother and brother exploded into a full blown shouting match and all Kili could do—well, all he was _going_ to do, was sit back and let them go at it.

            Not to mention, Kili still had not finished his breakfast.

            Dis’ side of the argument seemed to center on questions regarding her oldest son’s sanity and thinking process as well as his decision-making skills. Fili, at first, went on the defensive with statements of ignorance of plans nor being the plan maker, but he quickly moved to the offensive, which didn’t help, of questioning his mother’s anger and even her apparent lack of caring at the perils her younger son went through out of love for his brother and mother. That last earned Fili a spectacular explosion of indignation and Dis now turned to questioning Fili’s daring in stating any such matters and do not change the subject!

            What none of them noticed was that, due to the shouting match between the king and his chief adviser, or his mother depending on where in the conversation one came in, the two guards from outside came in, saw Kili and the senior guard between them immediately went to summon the Captain of the Royal Guards, as per protocol.

            In other words, the guy went and ratted them out to Dwalin.

            By the time Dwalin marched through the door and walked in on Fili’s and Dis’ argument, Kili had finished breakfast, washed up, dressed himself in some of Fili’s finer clothes and was combing and braiding his hair. To say Dwalin was surprised to see him would be an understatement.

            “Enough!” Fili shouted to finally just get everyone quiet.

            The two guards went to back out of the room but were stopped by Kili’s voice. “You two stay here!”

            “Who are you to order us about?” One of the asked with a smirk, which shriveled in the combined glare from Fili, Dis, Dwalin and Kili. Regardless of the banishment, Kili was still a member of the royal family.

            “Right,” Kili said turning to the others, “I think—”

            But Dwalin cut him off. “What would you like me to do with his _royal highness_ , your majesty?” Dwalin hitched a thumb in Kili's direction while looking inquisitively at Fili.

            Fili just looked between the Royal Captain and his brother and seemed a loss for words. His mother spoke instead.

            “You should escort him from the kingdom,” Dis said matter-of-factly

            “WHAT?!” Kili was incredulous—his own mother!

            “You know you shouldn’t have come,” Dis said folding her arms across her chest.

            “Oh, please,” Kili huffed out, “Since when have you taken to following rules?”

            “Don't use that tone of voice with me, young man,” Dis said and looked like she was going to continue into another tirade, but Fili cut her off.

            “Mother, I am not throwing Kili out,” Fili said exasperated at the suggestion.

            “He’s been banished,” Dwalin pointed out. “By your own hand no less.”

            “Which I never wanted to do!” Fili snarled.

            “I am not leaving,” Kili stated.

            “You shouldn’t _be here_ ,” Dis retorted.

            “I think it’s up to _the_ _king_ to make that decision,” Kili said, and turned to his brother with an expectant look.

            Fili only looked back, clearly lost as to what to do and his discomfort increased as one by one the other occupants of the room turned and looked at him with questioning gazes.   Clearly lost for words and on the spot, Fili just couldn’t answer and he opened his mouth and closed repeatedly in rapid succession.

            Kili decided to use the one thing he knew would work.

            “I call _‘Admittance,’_ ” Kili demanded loudly.

            Fili and Dis looked stunned while Dwalin screwed up his face in confusion.

            “You call, _what_?” Dwalin asked?

            “Admittance,” Kili repeated. “Under Dwarrow tradition, a Proclamation is kingdom wide and allows any and all citizens to express their grievances and protests again the Proclamation at court. However, when there is a Declaration, only the accused may question the Declaration, and they can seek _Admittance_ before the council and king, and protest against their judgment.”

            There wasn’t a sound from anyone for several seconds until Dis spoke up.

            “Kili is correct,” Dis said quietly as if she couldn’t believe it herself.

            “When did you get so smart?” Dwalin drawled.

            “ _I_ actually paid _attention_ during Balin’s lessons,” Kili said dryly, and with a bit of guilt when he saw Dwalin’s face at the mention of his brother—but he couldn’t think about that now.

            Dwalin looked at Fili, as did Kili. Both knew that Fili would have to decide to grant the admittance.

            Fili took a deep breath and nodded his head, “Prince Kili, you are here by granted _Admittance_ before the council and king.”

            A little formal for Kili’s tastes but he took it.

            “If I may also be so bold, _your majesty_ ,” Kili said, deciding to follow Fili’s lead and keep up the decorum. “I believe that the two guards should be sworn to secrecy regarding my presence as rumors would only harm his majesty’s position until a decision has been made by the council or king.” _By Mahal,_ Kili thought, _if Uncles Thorin and Bilbo were here they would bust a gut laughing at us right now._

            “Agreed,” Fili said and looked at the guards but spoke to everyone. “If anyone outside this room has knowledge before the council’s and king’s decision, that knowledge will be traced back to the six people in this room. If so, the one spreading the information will face the council themselves over their transgressions.”

            Again, a bit formal for Kili’s tastes but he could see the two guards pale a bit and know he had his result. He wasn’t worried about mother or Dwalin, they were loyal to Fili, but the guards were another story; best to silence them now before they started flapping their gums.

            After that, the guards, Dwalin and Dis waited outside while Kili helped Fili get ready. Kili suggested the Durin Blue outfit as it was so very much like Uncle Thorin. He assisted Fili with his braids and his crown.  Kili caught a glimace of himself in the glass and wished he had his old circlet, but there was no time to go and fetch it from the vault; he would just have to use his title alone to throw his weight around.

            As they made their way to the council chambers, Kili went over in his head what the issues were. He knew very well that his uncles had no desire to return or even challenge Fili’s position and had actually made their opinions known to Kili in their conversation the night before Kili left. He also was loyal to his brother and he figured that the banishment was the first place to start. Once that was decided, then he could assist his brother openly with the current state of Erebor.

            Kili had heard the stories of when Uncle Thorin had announced his abdication to the council. He just never thought he would live through the same—how wrong he was. Fourteen old Dwarfs sitting around looking all manners of angry, shocked and dismayed at Kili’s presence in the kingdom was almost kind of funny really. There were calls for banishing anyone that helped the prince enter the mountain but Kili said nothing; Fili knew who helped because Kili had told him the previous night and Dwalin gave Kili a sideways glance with an almost imperceptible smirk, which said that Dwalin figured it out but clearly didn’t care.

            Kili tried to assure the council that he had no intention of claiming the throne and usurping his brother, and stated that his uncles had not only stated the same but were appalled that anyone would suggest not only Fili’s removal but their return to power, and therefore looked on any that would support such ideas to be traitors to the king and also the kingdom itself.

            However, while a few councilmen expressed their appreciation for the remarks, no one wanted to remove the banishment. It became very clear to Kili that the whole thing was just one more way for the council to retain it’s control of the mountain.

            The more the council talked the angrier Kili got until finally a few of them made the wrong comments and pushed the conversation over the edge.

            “Perhaps,” said Lord Ovar, a pompous Dwarf that Uncle Thorin hadn’t liked at all. “Prince Kili has spent too much time with the _Halflings_.” This was greeted with great amusement and laughter from most of the council.

            “Indeed,” continued Lord Brak, who appeared to be Ovar’s sycophant. “He is obviously clueless to the sufferings of his own people and only seeks to have his comfortable position returned to him.”

            “Quite right, Brak,” Lord Ovar replied smirking. “Maybe the prince should run back to The Shire and play _"make-believe"_  with the Hobbits.” 

            The entire council burst in laughter until the sound of swords being unsheathed had them all looking up to see Fili and Dwalin standing there with the tip of their swords against Ovar’s and Brak’s necks, respectively.

            “I will remind you, sir,” Fili said quietly to Lord Ovar, “that while Prince Kili’s banishment is, at present, still in effect, his titles and position have not been stripped from him—therefore you will show him respect due to his station or I will show the rest council the inside of your neck.”

            There wasn’t a sound to be heard but Ovar’s whimper.

            However, while the comments were offensive, they had given Kili a wondrous idea--and it was so obvious that he had to wonder why no one had thought of it before.

            “Your majesty,” Kili said evenly. “Might I have a word with you and your Chief Advisor, _alone_?” Kili glanced at his mother who looked at him evenly but he could see in her eyes that she was questioning his motives.

            Fili didn’t move for a several long seconds while he stared down Ovar but finally he lowered his sword and turned to face his brother. “Granted.” Fili turned to Dwalin before leaving the room. “Captain Dwalin, will make sure that the council remains silent,” Fili stated with a hard glare around the table. “I don’t wish to be disturbed.” It was a feeble excuse, as the doors to the king’s private chamber were made of steel but he sent the message that the council was to stay quiet.

            Dwalin nodded, and Fili lead the way in his chambers as Kili and Dis quickly followed. As the doors closed, Fili relaxed, as did Dis.

            “Well, played my son,” Dis said to Fili and bestowed him a toothy smile.

            “Pompous arse,” Fili spit out. “I wasn’t going to sit there and let him ridicule Kili another second.”

            “Thank you,” Kili said smiling at his beloved brother.

            “So,” Fili started, returning Kili’s smile. “What did you need to talk about so suddenly?”

            “I think,” Kili replied, “I may have figured out a way to bring the kingdom back together and break the hold of the council on you.”

            Dis looked from Kili to Fili with increasingly wider eyes as the moments passed.

            “Pray tell,” Dis said. “What is this miracle?”

            “It’s so obvious, really!” Kili laughed. “Ovar said that I was clueless to the sufferings of the kingdom. But you see, that’s the problem with the kingdom itself, it is _clueless_ to the sufferings of Dale!”

            Fili and Dis exchanged looks and shrugged shoulders.

            “That’s not news, Kili,” Fili said.

            “No,” Kili continued. “But you need to make them see.”

            “How?” Dis asked with smirk. “Force their eyes open?”

            “Exactly!” Kili exclaimed.

            “Excuse me?” Fili was obviously lost and so was their mother.

            “You need to force them to see what their isolationism had blinded them to,” Kili stated. “Make our people go to Dale; send Dwarfs to work in the city. Have them see that their suffering is not only shared but is small compared to the suffering of our allies.”

            “I can’t force them to go,” Fili said as if he was being asked to raise the dead.

            “Yes you can,” Dis said quietly. “You can make a Proclamation, decreeing that a certain number of Dwarfs go each day and assist the Men.”

            “YES!” Kili was thrilled his mother was catching on.

            “But the populace would never stand for such a Proclamation!” Fili stated with frustration. “They will be up at the court daily complaining against it!”

            “Of course they will,” Kili answered with a sly smile. “But it will take weeks, if not a months, to see everyone that has a complaint, which you have to as stipulated by Dwarrow Law. All we have to do is allot each Dwarf fifteen minutes of the court’s time--whether they use it or not, that means no more than four can be seen in an hour, and if court is open for ten hours a day, with a one hour break for luncheon—,”

            “A tradition that your Uncle Bilbo started,” Dis said with a chuckle.

            “The court will only be able to see thirty-six Dwarfs a day,” Kili finished up. “That means that even if only a thousand Dwarfs complain about the Proclamation, it would take over a month to see them all, even if you only closed court one day a week rather than the customary two! And we all know that there will be far more than a thousand complaints!”

            “And, until all the complaints have all been heard, the Proclamation stands in effect!” Fili said as his eyes started getting wider. “How many Dwarfs should we send a day then?”          

            Kili mulled the question over for a moment. “I would say at about five thousand. And make sure that it’s a random selection of the entire population.”

            “At five thousand,” Fili calculated quickly, “we will have send the entire mountain in just under three weeks.”

            “I will bet you my bow,” Kili said with a smug look, “that by the end of a fortnight, the tide of public opinion about the continued closure of the mountain will have turned, there will be little to no complaints against the Proclamation so it’s standing will not be in question, and the civil unrest should become a thing of the past—nothing brings Dwarrow together like shared experiences.”

            “Kili,” Dis said, “I agree that the tide may turn but I don’t think it will be the tidal wave you're thinking of.”

            “Ah, but that’s where you come in, mother dearest,” Kili said wiggling his eyebrows in a way that made Dis nervous.

            “How so?” Dis looked almost afraid to ask.

            “Besides shared experiences,” Kili said quietly. “What is the one thing to turn a Dwarf’s opinion?”

            “Ale?” Fili stated with a laugh.

            “No, nitwit,” Kili rolled his eyes and chuckled his brother's joke. “A Dwarrowdam.”

            “But not all Dwarfs are married,” Dis pointed out. “And some that are aren’t married to Dwarrowdams.”

            “But they all have mothers,” Kili countered. “Some have sisters, wives, daughters, even close female friends—especially the Dwarfs and Dwarrowdams in the army. And no self-respecting Dwarf is going to question a stubborn, determined Dwarrowdam.”

            “Not if they know what’s good for them,” Dis said dryly.

            “There you go,” Kili said with shrug.

            “But how does that help in this situation?” Fili asked.

            “Easy,” Kili said. “There are many Women in Dale that have lost at least one of their children to the plague, many are overwhelmed because all the adults have to pitch in. If mother were take Dwarrowdams to help watch the Dale children while their parents go and assist within the city, the Dwarrowdams will see just how hard it is on the children. And I don’t think you can find me a Dwarrowdam that doesn’t have a soft spot for a child—even if that child is a child of Men!”

            “I understand what you are saying, Kili,” Dis said soft. “But I worry about pushing a Dwarrowdam that has lost their own child into that situation. It’s almost cruel.

            “You’re right,” Kili replied. “It would be, and those that did should only go if they choose, not forced. But there are plenty of Dwarrowdams that had sick children that survived, I think they could handle seeing mothers who’s children didn’t. And there are plenty of other Dwarrowdams that could go; those who never had children, older Dwarrowdams who’s children are grown, and so on. They will bring back the stories and spread them among their friends. That’s all we really need.”

            “How many do I take a day?” Dis said, clearly getting on board.

            “I’d say about forty to fifty,” Kili answered.  "And like the Dwarfs, don’t bring any that have already gone; get as many out there on consecutive days as possible.”

            “What if they volunteer?” Dis asked.

            “Yes,” Fili added. “What if your plan starts to work and Dwarfs start to volunteer rather than wait to be called up?”

            “Let them go,” Kili said with a shrug. “But, add them to the five thousand you call up; believe me, having more go will only help the people of Dale.”

            From the looks on their faces, Kili could see that his brother and mother were intrigued.

            “This is an excellent idea, Kili,” Fili said with a smile. “I just have one thing to ask. You said that it will also rid me of the council’s control—how”?

            “That’s the best part,” Kili answered with an evil grin.  “As we all know, the council will be dead set against this whole idea. So, when we start calling up Dwarfs, we make sure we _never_ send a Council member.”

            “How does that seem fair?” Fili asked.

            “It won’t seem fair—to the populace,” Kili replied. “The council members will continue to bitch, moan and complain and try to sow trouble, but all the populace will see are a bunch of old Dwarfs who aren’t working like _they_ are, and since these same said old Dwarfs aren’t seeing the issues, they will be blind to the turning of public opinion. Then, all you have to do then is call for elections after the first fortnight and while the old members are trying to rally support for their position, the people will turn on them and they will be voted out.”

            “Perfect,” Dis said impressed.

            “But that only takes care of half the council,” Fili pointed out. “The rest are Dwarf Lords who are appointed.”

            “And you appoint them,” Kili said.

            “But I can’t replace all of them at once without looking like I am stacking the council,” Fili replied. “That won’t go over well.”

            “You don’t need to replace them all,” Kili countered. “If you only replace two with pro-royal Lords, that will give you a majority along with the newly elected members.”

            “And what grounds do I use to replace them?” Fili asked.

            “You already have some,” Kili answered quietly. “Ovar and Brak have shown disrespect for _my_ Royal person and position, not to mention that their quips about _‘Halflings’_ and The Shire could be taken as an insult against Uncle Bilbo’s people and in turn against an honored _and still_ much beloved former consort. Once the elections are over, you can use that to replace them with Lords who support you.”

            Dis looked gobsmacked and Fili just shook his head in what was clearly disbelief.

            “Kili,” Dis tried to speak. “This plan—it’s—I mean—”

            “Thank you, mum,” Kili gave her smug smile. “I will take your stutter as a compliment.” Kili smiled at both is brother and mother. “Now, lets go tell the council your decisions, and you can go make the Proclamations needed to lift the banishment and start the call up of Dwarfs for Dale.” Kili made to return to the council chambers.

            “Who are you?” Fili asked amused.

            Kili turned slowly, squared his shoulders and serious answered his sibling. “I am Kili, son of Dis, daughter of Thrain, Prince of Erebor and the Line of Durin. _That’s_ who I am.” Kili then turned to walk out but threw over his shoulder, “And the council better not forget it.”

            “I don’t think any of us will,” Dis said with respect as she and Fili followed her youngest son out.

 

\-----oooooOOOOO88888OOOOOooooo-----

 

            So, just after noon that same day, two Royal Proclamations were announced in court and released to the public.

            The first lifted the banishment of former King Thorin II, his consort Bilbo Baggins of The Shire, and Prince Kili of Erebor. Fili made the announcement in court and afterwards, Kili stepped up and knelt before his brother, proclaimed his allegiance to the King and read a statement form the former King and Consort declaring their own allegiance and support for the king as well as their condemnation of any that opposed him. Granted, their uncles had not actually written any statement but only Fili, Kili and Dis knew this and Kili felt it was true since he knew for sure how his uncles felt. There was applause within the court after both the Proclamation and Kili’s statement; as far as Fili was concerned anyone that spoke against this, would of course be heard but would also be ignored; he would not retract it.

            The second Proclamation was the reopening of the mountain and the conscription of Dwarrow to assist Dale. This was met with the much anticipated low level of support and there were already those present that demanded they be heard against it. However, Fili stated that while he was very interested to hear everyone who wanted protested—audiences before the court would not start until the next day.

            Fili announced that he would be going himself for the first several days and that Prince Kili would stand for the king at court to hear those that protested.  Kili wanted to go to Dale and help, but Fili believed that by going himself, the act would do three things at once, show the Dwarrow that their king was not asking them to do anything he wasn’t willing to do, show him in a better light than the council, and show his trust in Kili’s loyalty by leaving the kingdom in his brother’s hands.

            Kili had to admit, it was brilliant!

            When court opened the next day, Kili wanted to make sure that it didn’t look like he was taking Fili’s place. He refused to sit on the throne, and instead opting to stand all day. He asked his nephew, Thrain, to stand to the left of the Throne, where the heir stood, while his nephew Vili stood to the right. The throne was left empty except for Fili’s crown; it rested on a Durin Blue cushion, to remind all of Fili’s continued presence even when the king was not right there.

            The morning progressed slowly, and a few Dwarfs wanted to go longer than the allotted fifteen minutes. However, they were shouted down and told that if they couldn’t make their position clear in fifteen minutes, then the court had to assume they were just there to ramble.

            Kili noticed a few odd things about many of the Dwarrow that come to protest but could put his finger on it.  That is, until Lord Ovar and his wife, Lady Garria, came to state their protests and then it hit him; while the clothes the Dwarrows wore were Dwarf in design, many of the fabrics were clearly made in Dale and a few Dwarrows had actually appeared wearing jewelry or accessories that were obviously purchased from the Easterlings. As Ovar and his snotty wife were speaking Kili formulated his next move and when they were done, Kili sprung the trap.

            “The court thanks you for your concerns, Lord Ovar,” Kili said casually. “And of course your concerns will be presented to the king.”

            “We should hope so,” Ovar’s wife quipped, almost with a sneer.

            “You can do more than hope, Lady Garria,” Kili said with a smile.

            They both bowed, but very shallowly, and in fact had it been a hair less, it would have been considered unacceptable; Kili didn’t care.

            As the couple turned to go, Kili’s voice stopped them. “I do have to compliment you, m’lord and lady.”

            Ovar and Garria turned back and looked at Kili confused.

            “You clothing is very fine,” Kili stated pleasantly but clear for all to hear. “The colors are quite beautiful, and,” Kili walked forward and ran a hand over Ovar’s tunic, “the weave is exceptional. Clearly well crafted.”

            “Um,” Lord Ovar looked even more confused. “Thank you, your highness?”

            Kili shrugged and added, “It was made in Dale, correct?”

            Ovar and his wife exchanged a quick glance, clearly cottoning on to where Kili was headed. “We purchased this—sometime ago,” Ovar said quietly and his wife nodded.

            Kili was pleased and continued with his questions. “And I am particularly fond of this pendant you are wearing, m’lord. Did you receive this a while ago too, or was it more recently?”

            Again, both lord and lady exchanged a quick look and they paled considerably.

            “It was a Durin’s Day gift from my wife,” Ovar said trying to keep hushed.

            “Oh, from your wife,” Kili said loudly, wanting all to hear. “I am surprised you would still wear this since it is Easterling in make. Is it not?”

            Lord Ovar wasn’t sure how to respond but finally came up with what he thought was best. “I wear it because of who gifted it to me, not who produced it.”

            “Indeed,” Kili said in as innocent a voice as possible. “Although, I have to wonder what it says about a one’s character if they cheerfully take the results of an ally’s labors and then turn their back on them in their time of need.”

            Ovar and Garria stood stock-still and only stared at Kili.

            “Why,” Kili continued, going in for the kill, “It would not be unlike the Elves turning their backs on us when Erebor fell to the Dragon.”

            The entire court had gone silent. When Lord Ovar and his wife continued to only stand there like rabbits caught in a trap, Kili decided that he had gotten his point across.

            “I hope you both have a pleasant day,” Kili said quietly as he turned and addressed the entire court. “Court will now take a recess for luncheon and we will resume the protest audiences in one hour.”

            It was all Kili could do not to laugh as he, Thrain and Vili calmly left the room and entered the king’s private chamber. Kili and Thrain laughed long and hard and Vili joined in once the full impact of what Kili had said was explained to him. Kili didn’t hold the view that Elves were villains but he wasn’t about using that sentiment against people like Ovar and Garria.

            When court resumed an hour later, there were considerably less Dwarfs waiting to be heard than there had been before lunch. Kili couldn’t wait to talk to Fili later!

 

\-----oooooOOOOO88888OOOOOooooo-----

 

            When Fili returned that night, Kili could instantly tell that there wouldn’t be much joking going on. Fili looked exhausted, stated he was too tired to eat—although Kili noted his brother was not too tired to down two tankards of ale in quick succession, and didn’t laugh when Kili told him of Lord Ovar and Lady Garria.

            “I’m glad you dressed them down,” Fili said, taking a sip from his third tankard. “I have never liked that arse. Neither did Uncle.”

            “If I remember correctly,” Kili replied. “Uncle Bilbo wasn’t overly fond of Lady Garria either.”

            “No,” Fili said with a hint of smile. “She made a crack about Uncle Thorin’s short beard once, where in Bilbo asked her when she expected hers would be coming in fully.”

            Kili couldn't keep from smiling at that one. “Leave it to Uncle Bilbo to hit below the belt.”

            “Idiot,” Fili stated. “She deserved it. You don’t insult someone's beard unless you want yours insulted in return.”

            “Especially if that someone is Uncle Thorin.”

            “Not with Uncle Bilbo around, no.”

            They both sat in silence for awhile and Kili was just about to suggest to Fili once again to eat something when their mother came in. Dis didn’t greet either of her sons; simply poured herself a tankard and joined them by the fire. They watched her down half of it in one go, before Kili spoke up.

            “How was your day, mother?” Kili could only guess.

            Dis took a few breaths before answering. “Worse than you could imagine.”

            Neither Fili and Kili said anything; they knew their mother would continue on without being asked.

            “You know that school you suggested, Kili?” Dis said, but not looking at her son.

            “Yeah, the one near the inn where I was staying.”

            “It wasn’t a school,” Dis said quietly. “It's an orphanage.” Dis took another drink of ale and then continued on. “When we arrived, we were appalled because the children there were filthy. We couldn’t understand why they were being neglected. Turns out, because so many adults have to work the farms and in and around the city, that there just aren’t enough to help with those children that have been orphaned by the plague. The poor woman at the place was the only adult and she had sixty-one children there.”

            “Sixty-one?” Fili said shocked. “Cared for by only one person?”

            Dis only nodded. “Then we found out that there were ten other orphanages through the city. They all had various number of children, depending upon their ages; the one we were at had the seven and eight year olds. But none of the facilities had anyone over fifteen, as anyone older than that were sent out to assist the adults.”

            “By the gods,” Kili said.

            “I can tell you, Kili, your plan for the Dwarrowdams has had a far greater impact than we expected.”

            “In what way?” Kili asked.

            “As we were asking questions, we found out that before the plague there were twenty-two thousand children in Dale, but the disease claimed thirteen thousand of them.”

            “ _Thirteen thousand_?!” Kili felt his stomach turn and Fili only shook his head.

            “Of the nine-thousand left,” Dis continued quietly, “about twelve hundred were left orphaned and of those, there are forty-five newborns who’s mothers died just after giving birth.

            “A few of the Dams were physically sick when the numbers sunk in and I don’t think any of them had dry eyes. What made it even worse for them, was that the children were all scared of us, thinking that we would hurt them—or worse.”

            “Why would they think that?” Fili asked stunned.

            Dis offered a bitter smile. “Because they had been told that the Dwarfs blamed them for disease and the children took it literally to mean themselves. They thought we had come to punish them.”

            Now Kili felt like he was going to be sick. “I never intended for anyone to get that upset, mother.”

            “I know,” Dis said. “And I am not blaming you or anyone. But I can tell you that I won’t have to look to hard for assistance.”

            “You think you will get more Dwarrowdams to volunteer tomorrow?”

            “Tomorrow?” Dis barked out a laugh. “Fili, I was overwhelmed today.”

            “With forty Dams?” Fili asked.

            “When we found out about the newborns,” Dis continued, “we also learned that there were not enough wet-nurses to help them. So I sent a couple of the Dams to come back to Erebor and find those willing to nurse. I thought I might get a couple to come along. But it seems that the ones I send back, didn’t waste any time telling any and every female they ran into about the children. Just after lunchtime, the two I sent not only brought back about five wet-nurses, but also returned with over three hundred extra Dwarrowdams in tow.”

            Both sons just stared at their mother.

            “You got almost ten times the number you started with to volunteer?!” Kili was amazed.

            “My son,” Dis said with a small smile. “I don’t think we will even have to go two weeks to see your plan come to fruition.”

            “It was the same with the Dwarfs,” Fili added quietly. “There was grumbling and complaining all the way to Dale, but once they saw the condition of the city and way the people looked like the walking wounded—most of the Dwarfs got quieter as the day wore on.”

            “You think you will get a response like mother did?” Kili asked

            “Maybe not as strong,” Fili said. “But, yes—I think there will be a greater number to volunteer before the week is out and I agree with mother—I don’t think it will take a fortnight for your plan to succeed.”

            Kili was glad things were working out and he knew it was only good for the Dwarrow to see how their friends in Dale were doing, but part of him was feeling uneasy.

            “You know,” Kili said, looking down to his lap. “I fear that, in a way, we are using the people of Dale to achieve our own ends. I can’t shake the feeling of guilt I have.”

            “Kili,” Dis said gently, taking one of his hands in hers. “I can understand how you are feeling, truly I do. But personally, I would rather feel guilty from helping someone than feel guilty from turning my back on them.”

            “I know that,” Kili replied a bit dejected. “I just can’t help feeling that we are the ones benefiting the most out of this.”

            “I think if you ask the citizens of Dale,” Fili asserted. “You will get a very different answer.”

           

\-----oooooOOOOO88888OOOOOooooo-----

 

            As both Dis and Fili predicted, it took less than two weeks for the tide to change.  For the Dwarrowdams, Dis went from three hundred and forty to nearly one thousand by the weeks end.   Many brought their children along once they realized it was safe and they watched as the Dale Children opened up and blossomed under their care.  Unexpected were the few that had lost children and had not left with Balin for Moria. Rather than feel bitter, these Dams were happy to have someone to look after and almost all of them expressed feeling ashamed that they had turned their backs when so many children needed comfort and affection.

            As for the Dwarfs, by the end of the first week, Fili saw the numbers double. By the middle of the second week, they were taking twelve thousand a day and conscription was no longer needed as every able-bodied Dwarrow had been to the city at least once.

            Kili saw a sharp decline in court protests throughout the first week. By the beginning of the second week, Fili had returned to his duties and he was witness to many of the former protesters coming to officially withdraw their complaints and speak in favor of continued assistance to Dale.

            Fili called for council elections at the end of second week and five of the seven elected Councilmen were replaced. The two that returned, however, came with a completely different mindset as both their spouses had been to Dale and had, _persuaded_ them to support King Fili and the city of Dale.   As for Lord Ovar and Lord Brak, they were removed on the grounds of disrespect and offense to both Prince Kili and former Consort Bilbo. Both attempted to protest their removal but they found that none of the elected Councilmen, nor even the other five appointed Lord Councilmen would support them. As Gloin was already a Dwarf Lord, he was offered one of the vacant positions on the council and he accepted. Fili then appointed a young, progressive Lord to fill the last seat and for the first time in several years, Fili had the full support of the council behind him.

            As for Dale, the city continued an upward swing back to prosperity. King Bain expressed his extreme gratitude to Erebor and it’s people for their assistance. He also wanted to make sure that Erebor didn’t continue to bare the brunt of helping his city alone, so he sent out missives to Gondor and Rohan expressing the plight of Dale. Within a few months time, large groups from both kingdoms arrived and this ushered in a new peace and alliance between the three kingdoms of Men. King Bain made sure that the other kingdoms realized that it was all due to the Dwarfs.

            So, just three months after Kili’s plan had been implemented there was a celebration for the renewed alliance and friendship between the Dwarrow of Erebor and the Men of Dale.

            It had been a rousing success and Fili wanted everyone to know that it had been Kili who was behind the whole endeavor. However, Kili refused any awards or accolades. His reasoning is that he didn’t want to be perceived as being better than the king and in fact, stated that that was the whole point—making sure there was no question to Fili’s right to rule. No, his brother on the throne was thanks enough.

            During this time, there were no letters between Kili and his uncles. He had tried a couple of times but never went through with sending anything; he feared terse replies, or worse, no replies at all. He knew that Fili had written with the news that the banishment had been lifted—thank to Kili, and that Dis had written several times in regards to Dale and the dispelling of the civil unrest—again giving Kili much of the credit. Still, Kili resisted writing them. He feared their anger when he returned but knew that he would; it had never been his intention to stay in Erebor.

            But the time to leave had arrived and Kili was, despite his fears, glad to be going home.

            “I wish you would stay,” Fili said as they spent their last night together.

            “I know,” Kili said quietly. “But it’s time for me to go back.”

            “I will miss you,” Fili stated. “You have done so much for me, for my sons, for us all really.”

            “Thank you,” Kili said and meant it sincerely.

            “It'll be lonely without you here,” Fili whispered.

            “You don’t have to be lonely, Fee,” Kili said gently.

            “I’ve had my One, no one can replace her.”

            “I know, I really do. Believe me, despite what little time we had, if Tauriel had lived, I would have never had another.”

            Fili nodded. He knew what the beautiful Elf-maiden had meant to Kili and he would not begrudge him that.

            “But you know, Fee. It’s not about replacing but sharing.”

            “What do you mean?”

            “No one can _replace_ Opal. She was sweet and beautiful and kind and she loved you so very much.”

            Fili smiled just thinking of his gem; his Opal.

            “But if you open your heart, you might find that there is enough to share with another; you might find that love finds you again.”

            Fili slowly turned his head and narrowed his view at Kili. Was he hearing right?

            “Kili,” Fili asked quietly. “Is someone waiting for you in The Shire?” Kili didn’t answer but Fili was undeterred.  “Answer me, brother. Has love found you again?”

            Kili took a slow deep breath and thought hard before he answered. “I don’t know Fili. But I won’t ever know, unless I go back.”

            Fili couldn’t help but smile. “What’s she like?”

            Kili smirked. “ _He’s_ beautiful.”

            Fili considered that confirmation—love had indeed found his brother again.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Khuz-dul Translations**  
>  Ûrzud – (my) Sun  
> Nûlukh – (my) Moon  
> Azyung zu – I love you  
> Azyung zu ya', zu serejel-shand – I love you too, you idiot
> 
> \------------
> 
>  **Lords of the Council**  
>  As stated previously, half the council is made up of Dwarf Lords that hold their position because of their title and they are appointed to the council by the King. 
> 
> However, to remove a Lord after that requires good reason - insubordination, insulting the king or member of the royal family, bribery, traitorous activities (consorting with sworn enemies), etc.


	15. The Prodigal Sister-Son

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Prodigal Sister-Son returns home to the ones that love him

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Khuz-dul Translations**  
>  âzyungel – love of loves  
> Namad-inùdoy – sister-son (nephew)  
> Idmi baruf-zahar = welcome home (literally, welcome to the house of family)  
> Ghivashith = the treasure (that is young)

* * *

**_11/23/2990_ **

            “Oh, stickle-bats!” Bilbo swore under this breath. “Frodo!” Bilbo shouted out, hoping the lad actually was near enough to hear him—and his husband was _not_. The last thing he needed was for his beloved, but confoundedly stubborn husband, to find out he had gone out into the front garden, got carried away, and had once again misplaced his cane.

            _No, not cane_ he reminded himself, it was his ‘ _steady_ -stick.’

            Bilbo didn’t need a cane, thank you very much! But he had to—reluctantly, admit that when he was weeding in the garden, he did have a wee bit of trouble getting up— _a wee bit_ he repeatedly reminded Thorin. He wasn’t steady—it was the ground, too soft. It certainly had _nothing to do with his age_.

            Nope, it was _all_ the ground’s fault.

            However, regardless of his assertions, and in true Dwarf fashion, his loving but ridiculously overprotective, husband fashioned him a “steady-stick” so that Bilbo could _steady_ himself as he got up and not fall over. Not that Bilbo had _ever_ fallen over. The very idea that a respectable Baggins like himself would fall over— _preposterous!_

            It was only that, since Thorin worried about such silly things, Bilbo thought it best to just take the infernal—though he silently admitted very finely crafted and beautifully detailed—stick, so as not to upset or insult his Dwarf. It was really the only polite and gracious thing to do. And if he used the, beautiful little cane— _stick! It was a stick, not cane, even though it did have a little handle on it—_ then that was no one else’s business but his own.

            And maybe his husband’s.

            Oh all right, and perhaps Frodo’s too!

            But be that all as it may, Bilbo didn’t want to shout out again because each shout meant a greater chance that Thorin would hear him and Bilbo _really_ didn’t want to hear another lecture about leaving the steady-stick laying about from Mister Thorin _“What-In-Name-Of-Mahal’s-Hairy-Backside-Do-You-Think-You-Are-Doing-Bilbo-Baggins”_ Oakenshield.   No, best to avoid _that_ little speech before Thorin could work up a head of steam and go off on another tirade.

            Honestly, that Dwarf of his.

            Just as Bilbo was opening his mouth to, regretfully, shout out again, the front door opened and out stepped Frodo.

            “I’m sorry, Uncle,” Frodo said, “I was in the pantry when you called out.”

            “No worries, my boy,” Bilbo replied with a relieved smile. “It just seems I left my stick somewhere.” But Frodo was already stepping forward and reaching for the stick that was actually right behind Bilbo.

            Once he had his stick in hand, Bilbo pushed himself up with ease and took a few deep breathes to clear the mild dizziness—which he was glad to tell anyone, but _especially_ his husband, was due to his allergies and _not_ the sudden change in position. The ideas that Dwarf got in that thick head of his sometimes! Honestly!

            “Thank you, my lad,” Bilbo sighed out, feeling much better to be vertical now.

            But Frodo was not listening to Bilbo. In fact, Frodo didn’t even seem to notice his uncle anymore. Bilbo watched as Frodo seemed to go into a daze, the lad’s eyes widening. Bilbo was quickly growing concerned when Frodo suddenly shouted.

            “KILI!” Frodo leaped down the front steps and vaulted himself over the gate. He ran down the lane so fast and launched himself with such force into Kili’s arms, that the Dwarf was forced to swing the Hobbit around or else they would have fallen into the Gamgee’s hedges—and that would not have made Hamfast Gamgee a very happy Hobbit, let him tell you!

            Both Kili and Frodo were laughing and nattering on, so that by the time they walked up to the gate, Bilbo had descended the stairs to greet his returning nephew.

            “Kili!” Bilbo cried, pulling the Dwarf into a tight hug. “Thank the Maker and his lady you’re home safe!”

            “It’s so good to be home, Uncle Bilbo,” Kili replied, bestowing a kissing on his Uncle’s cheek. “I’ve missed you all!”

            Bilbo waved Kili off to hide his fluster. “Let’s get you inside, you must be starving!” That earned a laugh from both Kili and Frodo, who made _shocking_ comments about leaving it to Uncle Bilbo to worry about food the moment Kili was within walking distance of his kitchen! Well, of course Bilbo was going to worry—just look at the Dwarf, practically skin and bones!

            They peppered Kili with all the usual questions, “What new creatures did you see on your journey?”, “Are you hurt anywhere?”, “Did you have any battles on your way back?”, “Why didn’t you tell us you were coming?”, “Did you stop at Rivendell?”, “Please tell me you were gracious to Lord Elrond?”, so that by the time they all reached the door of Bag End, they were laughing and hanging on to each other; Kili trying to get it all out as each question just bombarded him.

            Bilbo was ready to fetch Thorin the second he got inside, but apparently Frodo’s shout had been enough because as they crossed the threshold, Thorin rounded the corner into entrance hall.

            All laughter died as Thorin stood staring at Kili with a stony, unreadable expression. For several long seconds no one said anything, Frodo tightened the arm he had wrapped around Kili’s back, while Bilbo let go of his hold on Kili and slowly made his way to stand next to his husband.

            Finally, Kili broke the silence. “Hello, Uncle.”

            Thorin voice was as unreadable as his face. “Namad-inùdoy.”

            Bilbo was getting nervous and feared his husband would explode. “Thorin–,” he started; he was going to try and defuse the tension before it could build higher.

            But Kili was already ahead of him. “I’m sorry, Uncle Thorin,” Kili said, just above a whisper.

            Thorin only hesitated for a moment before closing the distance between himself and his nephew, pulling Kili into a bracing bear hug.

            “I’m so sorry,” Kili’s voice was heavy with remorse.

            Thorin only shushed his nephew and replied in a voice as heavy as Kili’s, “Idmi baruf-zahar, ghivashith.”

 

\-----oooooOOOOO88888OOOOOooooo-----

 

            Not counting the love of his uncles or cousin, it was Uncle Bilbo’s cooking that Kili had missed the most. Sure, Erebor had had its delicious delights and he had only been on the road about two months since last tasting them. Yes, the stops at Beorn’s and Rivendell had been great but both times there was far less meat than any average Dwarf would like—well, there was none at Beorn’s but Kili wasn’t about to complain to the skin-changer.

            No, Uncle Bilbo’s roasted meats and herbed vegetables—something Kili had gotten actually fond of, not to mention his desserts and wondrous pickled items and preserves—those were the things that spoke of home. At least, spoke to his stomach of home.

            Everyone was glad to hear of the stabilization of Erebor and both Thorin and Bilbo were very proud of Kili’s solution. In fact, Uncle Thorin was still receiving letters from Fili and Dis relating to the ongoing recovery in Erebor and Dale and how the commitment and friendship between the two peoples were stronger than before.    Shockingly – or not in Bilbo’s opinion, the Elves had finally put forth greater efforts on their part to assist Dale; clearly not wanting to be outdone or left out of the improving relationships.

            Thorin made every effort to show that he was glad that his nephew was home and was very interested in Kili’s views and ideas regarding Erebor. Frodo was happy to have Kili back and while he didn’t say much during Kili’s impromptu meal, he did sit close to Kili while they were at the table. Bilbo of course, continued to heat up food and bring out many of Kili’s favorites and held up his side of the conversation and comments while moving back and forth from the pantry, kitchen and dining room.

            Finally, after what seemed like an hour of eating steady, Kili was just finishing up desert when Frodo had to leave—he had promised to meet with Halfred Gamgee, and Thorin excused himself—it was time for a nice lie down.   

            Not five minutes after Thorin had left the room, while Kili was looking down at his plate; there was a sudden heavy thud of a mug hitting the wooden table. Kili looked up found that his Uncle Bilbo had taken a seat directly across from him and was sitting down behind the mug of tea he had just placed there. Bilbo had a small smile on his face, but when he took a sip, and the smile was hidden, Kili then noticed the pointed look in his Hobbit uncle’s eyes. It was at that moment that Kili found it hard to swallow, and it dawned on him that maybe— _just maybe_ , not all things had been forgiven.

            “Have you had enough to eat?” Bilbo asked quietly.

            “Yes, Uncle,” Kili nodded. “Thank you.”

            Bilbo replied with a small incline of his head but nothing else. He just took another sip of tea and continued to look at the Dwarf-prince without blinking.

            “Uncle Bilbo,” Kili started but didn’t finish.

            “Now that you are feed,” Bilbo said evenly. “I think it’s time we had a little chat; just you and me.” Bilbo took another slow sip of his tea and Kili wondered how his Hobbit uncle managed to make such a simple act seem frightening.

            Bilbo was angry, and, if Kili was any judge, the look in Bilbo’s eyes told him that the Hobbit was _very angry_. Taking quick stock of all he knew, Kili figured this anger was not about Bilbo himself or Frodo—if either were the case, Bilbo would just simply not be speaking to Kili.

            With that knowledge in mind, that only meant one thing; Uncle Bilbo was mad and it had to do with Uncle Thorin. And Mahal knew, if anyone upset or hurt Thorin, there was no escaping Bilbo’s wrath, and that wrath usually meant there would be hell to pay.

            Kili now realized too late that he should have run when he had the chance.

            “You know,” Bilbo said with a little chuckle that was didn’t speak of humor. “I used to think your Uncle Thorin was far too over-protective. Did you know he used to assign guards to follow me in and around Erebor, or he would wear his sword when we were simply going to the market? Almost silly, really.

            “But I came to realize is that over-protectiveness springs, not from vanity or pride but directly from his selfless heart. He would’ve given his life if it meant defending or protecting those he loved. It pained him to even think he might fail us. He’d lost so many loved ones already, you see, so he couldn’t afford to lose anymore.

            “Uncle Bilbo—,” Kili tried to interject.

            “Quiet!” Bilbo hissed forcefully.

            Kili just shut his mouth as he watched Bilbo’s anger slowly came to a boil. Bilbo took a deep breath and then continued as if nothing had happened.

            “Can you imagine a Dwarf that protective, waking to find that someone he cared about— a nephew, who he loves as a son, had taken off in the middle of the night?

            “Can you imagine how he felt knowing his beloved nephew was out there alone and vulnerable but yet he could do very little if anything about it? Knowing he couldn’t follow because, not only did he not have a clue as to the direction or route his nephew had taken, because he knew in his heart he was not up to such a journey, that he was physically unable to follow?

            “Why he might— _just might_ , feel shame and guilt. He certainly would blame himself if anything befell his nephew. And he probably would feel that he had failed his nephew, perhaps his whole family, and therefore he might lose all sense of self-worth and usefulness.”

            “Uncle Bilbo—” Kili tried again but was stopped by a fierce glare from Bilbo.

            “Your little _quest,_ not only served to remind your Uncle that he is no longer the young Dwarf he used to be, but to add insult to injury, when you _lied_ to his face, you did more than just disappoint him—you disrespected him, and were clearly dismissive of his wisdom in this matter! Because in the end, you made him feel old and worthless!

            “But here is the kicker; did he tell me these things himself? Did he share what he was going through? Oh no—no, he couldn’t protect you, so he put on a brave face to protect me from his problems. So instead, I had to lay awake at night and listen to him moan and cry in his sleep, I had to listen to him beg forgiveness, over and over _and over_ , because in his nightmares he continuously failed you and the rest of his family!”

            Kili felt sick, he wanted to crawl away and hide. But there was nowhere to run. His tears started now and he shivered from the icy cold he felt settling in his stomach.

            “So you listen to me carefully, Kili, son of Dis, because I won’t repeat myself.” Bilbo began to cry as his anger broke. “If you _ever_ , pull another stunt like this again, if you _ever_ make _my husband_ , suffer what he has been through in the last several months, then you will no longer be welcome in this home! _Do you understand me_?!”

            Kili could only nod empathically and it took a minute for Kili to find his voice.

            “I’m sorry, Uncle Bilbo,” Kili said with soft, unsteady voice.

            There was a beat or two before Bilbo quickly came around the table and Kili found himself wrapped up in Bilbo’s arms; his head cradled against the Hobbit’s chest.

            “If you think,” Bilbo whispered through his own tears. “I enjoy saying these things to you, then you are very much mistaken.”

            “I don’t,” Kili whispered with a cracked voice. “I don’t think that.”

            “It hurts me to even think on them.” Bilbo pressed his cheek on top of Kili’s head.  “But I mean it, Kili. I won’t stand for your Uncle Thorin being hurt again.”

            “He won’t be. I promise—I swear.”

            They stayed that way for a few minutes longer; Bilbo cradling Kili to himself, clearly trying to impress that it was over with now and Kili hugging his uncle back to let him know that he understood.

            Finally, Bilbo pulled away, dried his eyes and took a deep breath. “I’m—I need to—to run to the market.”

            Kili nodded but didn’t say anything.

            “Just—leave your dishes in the kitchen and I will take care of them when I get back.”

            “No,” Kili said quickly. “I’ll wash up.”

            “Don’t be silly,” Bilbo gave a small smile but couldn’t meet Kili’s gaze fully. “You should go clean-up; have a nice hot soak, and maybe lay down for a bit.”

            “All right, Uncle,” Kili didn’t want to argue; not with Bilbo, not now.

            “Do you want anything special for dinner?” Bilbo asked as casually as he was able, obviously desperate to seem normal, as he headed out through the kitchen.

            “No, whatever you make will be fine,” Kili would frankly be grateful if he wasn’t forced to eat out in the garden alone.

            “Well, I will just see if Mrs. Proudfoot has any iced pumpkin cakes left—I know how much you like those.”

            Bilbo quickly strode through the kitchen and out the front door while Kili could only sit there. He knew he had messed up when he left and Mahal himself knew that if he had to do it all over again, he would. But he should have told his uncles—he should have been Dwarf enough to stand before them and tell them he was going and that he would not be dissuaded. That’s what he should have done.

            “I keep telling you,” Thorin said, almost amused, as he came around the corner form the hall to the dining room. “Don’t. Upset. A Hobbit.”

            “Uncle, I—”

            Thorin held up a hand to quiet Kili and then he took his usually place at the head of the table. “Kili I’m fine.”

            “Did you know he wanted to talk to me alone?”

            “Once he made sure you were safe at home and well feed, I knew he would.”

            “Is that why you left to ‘ _nap._ ’”

            “Best to let your Uncle get it out.”

            Both Dwarf’s sat there for a couple of minutes, until finally Kili felt it was time for them to get it out as well.

            “Uncle, I swear I never meant to hurt you.”

            “I know,” Thorin said.

            “I should have been honest with you.”

            “Yes, you should have,” Thorin agreed with a nod. “Your uncle and I knew that there was little chance to stop you if you really wanted to go.”

            “You would have let me go?” Kili asked.

            “Not happily, no,” Thorin replied. “We knew that we could only explain the situation and hope you stayed, but that ultimately it was going to be your choice. We would have, however, escorted you to Bree, gotten one of the rangers to go with you towards Rivendell and written to Lord Elrond to send out an escort to meet you before reaching there.”

            “You would have asked for help from, Elves?” Kili asked jovially but still serious.

            “To protect you,” Thorin stated, “I would have asked Thranduil himself. But in the end I didn’t have to.”

            Kili wasn’t quite sure what to make of the last comment, but he was almost shocked; for Uncle Thorin to have even mentioned the Elf-King’s name was amazing to him, let alone confess to be willing to ask the Elf for help.

            They sat there for a few minutes and Kili took in all that was said. He wanted to make amends or at least try.

            “Is there anything I should do for you or Uncle Bilbo?”

            “For me, nothing, ghivashith,” Thorin answered with an affectionate smile. “Trust me when I say, you are more than forgiven, and I am very proud of what you accomplished for Erebor and your people.” Kili gave his uncle a grateful and affectionate smile.

            “Now, as for your Uncle Bilbo, on the other hand, I would suggest you use your best manners and ask often if there is anything he wants done around the house.”

            Kili nodded, it was all the things he had planned to do anyway.

            “I am sorry I upset him,” Kili stated. “Should I continue to apologize?”

            “No,” Thorin said with a shake of his head. “Let it go. Bilbo wasn’t ever really angry with you over my issues.”

            A little confused, Kili had to ask, “So that whole speech wasn’t real?”

            “Don’t get me wrong,” Thorin replied. “He was upset, but his real anger lay elsewhere.”

            Kili’s confusion had to show on his face.

            Thorin took a deep breath before continuing. “Your Uncle Bilbo has always accused me of being over-protective in regards to him and our family—I can’t argue that. With that said though, he forgets that he can be even more so. And often times, his anger is really misdirected over something he can’t control but can’t change.” 

            Thorin got a far off look in his eyes and an amused smile played on his lips.  “Do you remember the first feast we had for the delegates of Dale and Mirkwood?”

            Kili thought about it before venturing a guess. “Wasn’t that in the summer after we reclaimed the mountain?”

            “That’s correct,” Thorin nodded. “Your uncle and I had just married.”

            “Right, it was small,” Kili said vaguely remembering details. “And Fili and I were sent off to entertain Bard’s children.”

            “Yes. Your mother and Bilbo knew it would be boring and decided that you two should not have to sit through it.”

            “That was kind of them,” Kili said with smile.

            “Well, you missed the excitement.”

            “What?”

            “It was a small gathering,” Thorin continued. “We hadn’t established the new council yet because there just wasn’t enough Dwarrow in the mountain. So it ended up being myself, Bilbo, your mother, and Balin as official representatives of the mountain. Dwalin was there because he insisted on being present when Elves were near. Thranduil was there with his son and two of his court, while Bard came with his four chief advisors.

            “Now, one of Bard’s advisors hadn’t met us before and he, apparently, was only aware that the king of Erebor had gotten married, but not to whom.   With that in mind, he saw me with your mother and he assumed that your mother was my wife.”

            Kili was incredulous. “How could he have thought _that_?!   I mean, you two almost look like twins?!”

            “You know Men,” Thorin said with a shrug, “Now, to make matters worse, Bilbo decided that he would ‘work the room’ so as to keep Thranduil and I apart, which was fine by me. But because he was on his own, this Dale advisor thought Bilbo was merely a representative from The Shire and only there as ambassador and advisor for the farms.”

            Kili shook his head and waited for the obvious.

            “I don’t think I need to tell you," Thorin said a smirk, "that it was all a recipe for disaster, as this advisor starts rambling and Bilbo, trying to be polite and diplomatic, lets him. Only, at some point the man made comments in regards to myself and your mother.” Kili’s eyes got huge and a smirk started forming as Thorin went on. “I knew nothing of this of course, being that I was across the hall, but all of a sudden, there was a lull in the conversation and your mother and I heard Bilbo’s voice hit the roof with a 'What exactly do you mean by _that remark_?!'” Kili laughed as Thorin had done a pitch perfect imitation of Bilbo’s angry voice.

            “Bilbo had turned an angry red color and began a very loud public dressing down of this guy! Now mind you, Bilbo was only a bit taller than the Man’s waist, but he starting poking the Man in his stomach and forcing the poor advisor to step back with each jab of his finger!”

            Thorin and Kili both started laughing.

            “Bilbo, very loudly, questioned the man’s manners, his qualification for his job, his intelligence—I think he may have even questioned the guy’s parentage and upbringing, and I know for sure he made remarks wondering just what would the man’s mother say if she knew how rude and insulting he was!

            “Now, as I said, the guy had no clue who Bilbo was and he apparently had also misunderstood Bilbo’s last name—so when he was finally able to get a word in edgewise, he called your uncle, _‘Ambassador Buttons!’_ ”

            Kili just gaped. “You’re joking!” He asked as Thorin shook his head. “Mahal’s Balls! And you all thought I was bad for calling him _‘Boggins!’_ ”

            “I swear, when the man said _‘Buttons’_ I could hear every Dwarf in the place either gasp or groan, because they knew what was coming, and sure enough, Bilbo turned an ugly shade of red, and with both hands on his hips, shouted  _‘It’s Baggins you puffed up popinjay and for your information I am not an ambassador, but King Thorin’s Consort!’_   Now you would think that would have silenced the man, but, no, he proceeded to make his biggest mistake of the night!”

            “How could it get worse?!” Kili was amazed.

            “Well, the Man just stood there for a second or two, looking confused and then said with a sneer, ‘Consort? But you’re a male?!’”

            Kili’s mouth dropped open and he thought he felt his jaw hit his lap.

            “You could have heard a pin drop for about two seconds and then Bilbo, _really_ blew up!”

            At this point Thorin and Kili were laughing so hard that they were crying. Kili could very well imagine his Hobbit Uncle screaming insults and waving his hands around at the poor idiot Man.

            “It took King Bard and Dwalin to step in-between them and keep Bilbo from throttling the guy, and it was all I could do to drag Bilbo away and still maintain some sort of dignity! Your mother, of course, was no help—she had fled the room by that point, stating if she stayed any longer she would pee herself from laughing!”

            “Well, I’m now sorry to have missed that feast!” Kili couldn’t believe he hadn’t even heard of it before now. “So, what exactly did the advisor say to start it off?”

            “Bilbo refused to talk about it at first,” Thorin replied. “So we just let him calm down and then later, when it was just your mother, Bilbo and I, we asked again.

            “Apparently the guy made some remarks regarding your mother’s beard, which Bilbo didn’t appreciate, but the man had gone on and stated that he hadn’t known that the King of Erebor was just a little, hairy brute,” Thorin finished with a small shrug.

            Kili said with grimace. “No wonder Uncle was mad.”

            “Oh it gets better,” Thorin said with a twinkle in his eye. “Your mother said that she was used to ignorant men commenting on her bread, and I stated that clearly I was hairy and even I would have to admit that I could be rather gruff and brutish compared to the standards of Men.

            “Bilbo stated waspishly, _‘I am aware of all that!’_ , so I asked him, ‘Then what’s the problem?’ and Bilbo, with that adorable air of indignation, stated, _‘I didn’t appreciate his calling you_ little!’”

            Once again, Thorin and Kili dissolved into laughter, not just for Thorin’s pitch-perfect impersonation but for Bilbo’s main reason for snapping. It took several minutes for the two Dwarfs to finally get calm again.

            “You see,” Thorin said, gently, “Your uncle is very protective, but when it comes out it’s usually misdirected.”

            “Well, it sounds like he was pretty spot on with the advisor,” Kili stated with a shrug.

            “You think so?” Thorin asked with a narrowed look.

            Kili wanted to say yes, it seems obvious. But with that look on his uncle’s face, he knew he was missing something. “All right, clearly I am wrong—explain it to me.”

            “Well, judging from his comments,” Thorin continued, “You believe it was my being called _‘little’_ that upset him, correct?”

            Kili nodded, it seemed reasonable.

            “But what took me a while to get at and for Bilbo to admit, wasn’t just that the man insulted my height, and but that Bilbo felt the comment degraded me; that it trivialized my actions and deeds—my accomplishments; that somehow, calling me little was tantamount to belittling all that I was as a being.”

            Kili hadn’t even seen it that way but now that Thorin mentioned it, he could see where Bilbo might have—being called _‘Halfling’_ had always sat ill with the Hobbit and maybe now he understood why; because it labeled him based on something that had nothing to due with his worth.

            “Kili,” Thorin continued. “Bilbo’s anger today was more about your journey reminding me of what I can’t do any longer—of being reminded of getting older, because that in turn reminded _him_ of the one thing he has refused to face and talk about since before we ever left Erebor.”

            Kili shrugged his shoulders to let Thorin know to continue.

            “My getting older reminds Bilbo that there are a far greater number of days behind us than ahead us.”

            _Oh, Mahal_. “Don’t say that, Uncle Thorin.” Kili felt bad enough as it was.

            “It’s the truth and I am not afraid of death,” Thorin said matter-of-factly. “I have had a very good life and have been blessed beyond any dream I ever had.” Thorin nodded and a gentle smile graced his face as he thought of his beloved Bilbo. “But, your uncle has never wanted to face the fact that there may come a time when either of us, but especially him, might be left behind as the other passes on.”

            “Could you go on,” Kili asked quietly, “if Uncle Bilbo were to go first?”

            Thorin seemed lost in thought for a few minutes. “I don’t believe it’s a question of going on, but more a question of endurance. Could I endure a life without him—I don’t know.”

            “Don’t you think Uncle Bilbo has the same doubts?”

            “Possibly; probably. But this is the one area where we are opposite. I want to talk about it; but if he even considers it, he has never said and has flatly refused to speak of it.” Thorin was once again lost in thought before he continued. “My one fear is that if I go first, he will be totally and completely unprepared and I will not be there to comfort him.”

            “Don’t worry, Uncle,” Kili said firmly. “I will be there for him.”

            Thorin smiled and captured one of Kili’s hands in his own. “Don’t make a promise that you may not be able to keep. None of us knows what tomorrow brings.”

            Kili nodded. “Very well. If I still live and I am able, I will be there for him.”

            “Thank you, Kili,” Thorin said, releasing Kili’s hand and making to stand. “I know you will do right by him—by us. You always have.”

            “You think so?” Kili asked, standing and gathering his dishes. “Even when I take off into the wild, on a fool’s errand?”

            Thorin turned to give his nephew a smirk. “Yes. Even then.”

            Kili smiled in return.

            “Now,” Thorin said, heading towards the master bedroom. “If you will excuse me, I believe I will take that nap after all.” Thorin started down the hall but paused to lovingly snark over his shoulder, “And I suggest you follow your Uncle Bilbo’s advice and take a bath; you smell like a troll’s arse.”

            Kili let loose a laugh and decided that a long hot soak would be perfect.

 

\-----oooooOOOOO88888OOOOOooooo-----

 

            Dinner was wonderful as always, beef stew with potatoes, carrots, onions and mushrooms, along with cheese crusted baked broccoli, and as promised, an iced pumpkin cake for desert.

            If Bilbo seemed determined to pamper Kili just a tad more, Kili made sure to be thankful and appreciative of Bilbo’s efforts. The dinner conversation turned back to Kili’s journey home and Thorin pushed for more details, specifically any Orcs or Trolls but Bilbo went a bit pale at those questions so Kili quickly gave his answers and moved on. Frodo wanted to hear about Rivendell and Bilbo also seemed particular interested in Mirkwood and Kili’s treatment while traveling through the forest. Kili assured his Uncle that his journey through the ElvenKingdom was quick but not unpleasant and that Prince Legolas had been cordial if not overtly friendly.

            In fact, now that Kili was reminded of it, on his way back through Mirkwood, the Elf-prince had once again escorted Kili and made sure to exact a promise from him that he would give Bilbo, Elf-friend, his father’s continued best wishes and hopes for blessed future.

            While Bilbo commented casually that it was kind of the Elf-king, Kili swore Bilbo’s words had a slight chill to them. He noted that Bilbo’s gaze would not meet his, that Bilbo’s lips pursed just slightly and his shoulders seemed to stiffen. Kili looked at Thorin but the Dwarf-king also would not meet his gaze, and simply stared at the table with a hard, almost angry glare. Finally noticing Frodo looking at him, Kili perceived a slight shake of the young Hobbit’s head and he let it go; for now.

            But it didn’t take long for an explanation.

            Kili sat on a bench in the back garden after dinner and stared at the sky as the sun set. The red-orange horizon blended beautifully into a lavender color and it was only now, sitting in The Shire that Kili really felt as if he were home.

            “Mind if I join you?” Frodo said quietly from behind.

            “Of course, not,” Kili moved over and Frodo sat close by, only a hands-width between them.

            Kili automatically handed his pipe to Frodo who took it without a word. Like their uncles, it seemed to be an unstated given that if one had a pipe already out, it was shared without hesitation. They sat there for a minute before Kili spoke up.

            “So,” Kili began, “what is the deal with Thranduil and Mirkwood?”

            Frodo breathed out a tiny chuckle before answering. “When you left, one of the first things they did was send out messages.”

            Kili nodded and waited for the rest.

            “They sat down and Uncle Thorin figured you would go the quickest route—apparently the same one that you traveled when you reclaimed Erebor.”

            Kili was reminded of his conversation with Nori in Dale, and the Spy Master’s voice echoed out of his memory. _As a lone traveler, you took the quickest, safest and best-known track. You really can’t be surprised that your Uncle would figure that out and be one-step ahead of you._

            “Uncle Thorin,” Frodo continued, “wrote to Lord Elrond and asked that he send someone out to locate you. Then he sent a letter to his guard friend in Erebor.”

            “Dwalin,” Kili said offhandedly.

            “Right,” Frodo replied. “Anyway, Uncle Bilbo sent a letter to King Thranduil, asking that you be escorted safely through Mirkwood.”

            “That explains why Prince Legolas was the one to take me,” Kili said with a smile. “And here I thought it was Elrond’s doing.”

            “Oh no,” Frodo chuckled with a shake of his head. “It wasn’t any where near that easy.”

            Kili was confused. “I didn’t see anything problem.”

            “I am sure you wouldn’t!” Frodo stated while a big grin spread over his face. “You see, the Elf-king responded back to Uncle Bilbo’s letter, but rather than offer assistance, he informed Uncle that he couldn’t _possibly_ permit such a thing and said that it would be in everyone’s best interest if you were turned back but he did offer that if you so foolishly ventured into the woods, he would be glad to detain you until such time as Uncle Thorin could come and collect you himself.”

            Kili was truly shocked. This was completely at odds with the cordial escort he got from Prince Legolas. He had truly thought Lord Elrond had written to Thranduil and arranged for an Escort. But then, if Uncle Bilbo had written to Thranduil and explained to the Elf-king who was coming, why was Legalos surprised at Kili’s appearance, he wondered out loud.

            “I can only guess,” Frodo answered, “that after Uncle Bilbo’s second letter to the king, he may have not told his son exactly who was coming.”

            Kili had to admit that Legolas and he had not parted on the best of terms, but did have a begrudging respect for the other; due most likely to their shared affections for Tauriel.

            “So,” Kili asked. “What happened when Bilbo got Thranduil’s first letter?”

            “I don’t think I need to tell you,” Frodo giving Kili an amused smirk, “that both our Uncles were less than pleased to receive that message.” Kili nodded his head in agreement. “Uncle Thorin stomped around and was convinced that Thranduil’s only reason to detain you and make him come collect you was so that the Elf-king would have the pleasure of humiliating him, as well as you, in front of his court.”

            Again, Kili had to agree.

            “Uncle Bilbo however got very quiet,” Frodo said with a pointed look to Kili. They both knew that when Bilbo was mad and got quiet, it was time to run—Kili had been reminded of that just this afternoon. “Uncle Bilbo calmed Uncle Thorin down and then sat in his study for a good long while. Finally, Uncle Thorin and I grew concerned so we peaked in and there was Uncle Bilbo scribbling away furiously, and it looked like he had gone through several drafts of whatever he was working on. After about an hour or so, Uncle came out, and said that he would be back in a bit as he needed to go for a walk.”

            “A walk?” Kili was a bit confused.

            “He had that look,” Frodo gave Kili a raised brow, “that said he was mad and he needed to calm down himself. So naturally, Uncle Thorin rushed to the study and read Uncle Bilbo’s letter.”

            “And?” Kili asked mirthfully

            “Uncle Thorin’s eyebrows flew up his forehead,” Frodo laughed. “Uncle Bilbo basically ripped King Thranduil a new arse in the letter; he accused the king of what Uncle Thorin thought, of wanting to humiliate him; questioned the _‘supposed grandeur’_ of the Elves if they could act in such a small, petty way; stated that Thranduil’s bequeath of the title Elf-friend was apparently nothing more than hollow sentiment with no real meaning of friendship and had to wonder that Thranduil had any allies at all if his words were so meaningless and trite.”

            Kili was stunned. “Mahal’s Balls!”

            Frodo just shook his head and continued on. “Finally, in the last part of the letter, Bilbo basically implied that since it was such a shame that Thranduil could not assist friends in such a way, he would have simply have to contact Lord Elrond and Lady Galadriel and all the other Elven Lords he could think of and ask for their assistance since Thranduil could not be so generous and wondered how the other Elves would feel knowing that such a uncharitable act could be seen as a blemish on all of Elven kind.”

            “Holy crap!” Kili was thoroughly shocked.

            “When Uncle Bilbo returned form his walk,” Frodo finished, “he promptly sent off this letter via the faster raven we had here at the time. I can tell you that he didn’t have to wait long for Thranduil’s reply.”

            “I bet he didn’t!” Kili barked out a laugh.

            “Thranduil apologized for any _‘misunderstanding’_ ,” Frodo said with a smirk. “He went on to say that he had _‘failed to appreciate the urgency of your journey’_ and that there would be no need for Uncle Bilbo to _‘trouble himself’_ contacting anyone else as he would be only too happy to send a personal escort to assist you.”

            At that, both laughed out loud.

            “So, what happened then?” Kili had to know.

            “Well,” Frodo replied casually, “Uncle Thorin stomped around laughing and calling the Elf-king _‘tree-shagger’, ‘weed-eater’, ‘poncey-push over’_ and a few other things in Khuz-dul I’m sure were insults.”

            “I’m sure you’re right!”

            “Uncle Bilbo, on the other hand,” Frodo continued, “wore a little smile and said that it was very kind of Thranduil and he always knew it was nothing more than a simply misunderstanding to begin with.”

            Kili smiled. _Uncle Bilbo, the unshakable diplomat._

            “Uncle Thorin,” Frodo said, “responded that Thranduil could kiss his hairy arse for all his _‘misunderstanding’_ , which Uncle Bilbo stated was not necessary. This continued for several minutes until finally, Uncle Bilbo just ended up calling it like it was and said, _‘I got my way and he learned not to pissed me off. I’m all right with that!’_ ”

            Once again, Kili and Frodo could not hold back their laughter. But as they calmed, Kili realized that he too had learned that hard lesson—don’t piss off Uncle Bilbo, and knew that he was not quite done making amends for his actions.

            “Frodo,” Kili almost whispered. “I want to apologize to you if my leaving upset or hurt you—that was never my intent.”

            “I know,” Frodo stated quietly. “And I also know I would have done the same if the roles were reversed.”

            “Would you?” Kili asked with no hint of disbelief.

            “Of course,” Frodo replied. “If you were in pain or hurting or needed me, I—”

            “You would do that for me?”

            “Yes. I would.”           

            They sat quiet for a while, the pipe having gone out long ago and stowed away. It was then that pieces seemed to fall into place without a single word being said.

            Kili shifted closer leaving but an inch between them. Frodo shifted himself and closed the gap. Kili moved his arm to lay along the back of the bench behind Frodo. Frodo turned slightly and placed his arm between them around Kili’s lower back. Kili moved his arm from the back of the bench and wrapped it around Frodo’s shoulders. Frodo turned ever so slightly and laid his head on Kili’s shoulder while placing his free hand in the middle of Kili’s muscular chest. Kili turned his head, place a gentle kiss in Frodo’s curly hair and then rested his cheek upon on Frodo’s head.

            There they stayed that way for uncountable minutes as the sky turned from lavender to a dusky purple, the scent of honeysuckle filled the air and the fireflies came out to dance.

            Unbeknownst to the other, each of them had almost the exact same thought at the exact same time; _Will we move and break this, or will we move and change the course of something we’ve been at the edge of for so long? Will he dare make the move, or should I?_

            Once again, pieces fell into place as if they had both decided to answer the other’s question.

            Kili raised his free hand and placed it over Frodo’s. Frodo spread apart his fingers so that Kili’s could entwine themselves with his. Kili raised his head and turned in Frodo’s direction, just as Frodo moved his head back and turned to look at Kili. There was a heartbeat or two before Kili leaned forward and pressed his lips to Frodo’s.

            At that moment, their world stood still.

            How long that first, chaste kiss lasted, neither could say, nor cared really. But soon Kili drew Frodo closer, both opening their lips a fraction—all that was need to let the other in. They sat there, holding each other in what seemed like the most natural, comfortable thing, in the world; as if it had always been meant to be this way and always would be.

            At some point their hands released the other’s and Frodo brought his up around Kili’s neck while Kili wrapped his around Frodo’s waist; closing what little space there was left between them.

            After several long minutes—fifteen or so—maybe twenty—thirty?—they eased apart and Kili rested his forehead against Frodo’s. It was comfortable and natural as their kiss and even with their eyes closed, each had moved their hands to caress the other’s face; Kili loved the smooth, warmth of Frodo’s cheeks, while Frodo’s fingertips trailed their way over and through Kili’s beard.

            Finally, they each drew a breath from the shared air between them and Kili planted a gentle kiss on Frodo’s lips before speaking.

            “I think it’s time we go in,” Kili whispered.

            “Probably,” Frodo whispered his reply.

            However, neither of them moved and it was a several more minutes and another chaste kiss later that they both stood and moved to enter the back door. They held hands until their were inside and reluctantly let the other go. They saw Bilbo carrying laundry into Frodo’s room and Kili wondered where Thorin was.

            Kili didn’t have to wonder for too long.

            “Kili,” Thorin called quietly from the parlour and Kili touched Frodo’s hand before moving to see his uncle, while Frodo continued on down the hall to his room.

            “You wanted me, uncle?” Kili asked as he came into the front room.

            Thorin was reading some large tomb that was written in Khuz-dul and did not look up. “Don’t hurt him,” was all the answer Kili got.

            _Obviously we were out side too long._ “I won’t Uncle. I promise.”

            Thorin slowly closed his book, taking a deep breath before continuing. “You are both grown; free to make your own choices, but remember Kili, Frodo isn’t of age yet, and I’m expecting you to be the mature one in this.” Kili nodded, he was all too aware of his position. “You are both moving into something that has our family in the balance—this is not a game, not something to enter into lightly.”

            Kili knew – he had already given himself the same warnings. “I fully appreciate what you are saying, Uncle Thorin.” And it was true.

            “Good,” Thorin opened his book and Kili thought the conversation was done, but Thorin had one more warning to issue. “You hurt Frodo, you will hurt your Uncle Bilbo. And I don’t think I need to tell you who will have to deal with if Bilbo is hurt.”

            No, Kili did not need to be told. He was perfectly aware of Thorin’s protective nature.

 

\-----oooooOOOOO88888OOOOOooooo-----

 

            Frodo entered his room and found Bilbo putting away newly clean, folded clothes.

            “You don’t have to do that, uncle,” Frodo said fondly. He did appreciate it.

            “I don’t _have_ to do anything,” Bilbo said in a gentle but terse way. “I do it because want to.”

            “Well, thank you.”

            Bilbo hummed what was taken as a welcome and then turned to smile at Frodo went he put the last item away.

            “So,” Bilbo said but didn’t elaborate.

            “So,” Frodo repeated and waited; he knew what was coming.

            Bilbo crossed the room, shut the door and then leaned back against it to face Frodo again.

            “Uncle—,” Frodo began but was cut short.

            “Don’t hurt him,” Bilbo said with a sharp gaze.

            “I don’t plan on it,” Frodo answered.

            Bilbo stated, taking a deep breath. “Kili isn’t Ludo Diggle or Albie Truewater, he isn’t some tween dalliance you discard when the novelty wears off. Don’t enter into this if you only have half a mind to use half your heart.”

            Frodo nodded and Bilbo went to leave before he gave one last warning. “If you hurt Kili, you will hurt your Uncle Thorin. And if you do that—”

            “I’ll have to deal with you?” Frodo asked with a half-hearted smirk.

            Bilbo narrowed his gaze just a fraction and took a breath. “Let’s just say, it wouldn’t be in your best interest.”

            Frodo totally understood and nodded as such, as Bilbo returned a smile and left. Just as Bilbo walked away, Kili came into view and stood in the doorframe.

            “I’m heading to bed,” Kili said quietly

            Frodo nodded. “Now that we both have had our lectures, I am ready as well.”

            They both laughed silently at that and then Frodo stepped forward to place his hands on Kili’s shoulders, so he could plant a kiss on Kili’s furry cheek. As he pulled back, Kili leaned down and bestowed Frodo with a kiss on his lips.

            “Good night,” Kili said as he took a step back.

            Frodo gave him an innocent look that meant the opposite. “Are you sure you don’t want to ask your Uncle if you can sleep over?”

            Kili hung his head as Frodo giggled quietly. “It’s not nice to tease,” Kili said with what was suppose to be a stern look but only served to make Frodo giggle more.

            “Sorry,” Frodo said sweetly. “I’ll try and behave.”

            Kili shrugged. “Don’t try too hard.”

            Frodo’s grin grew wicked. “How  _‘hard'_ should I try?"

            Kili once again hung and shook his head, muttering something under his breath that Frodo knew was a curse in Khuz-dul.

            “Insufferable Hobbit,” Kili said with a mock scowl.

            “Stubborn Dwarf,” Frodo shot back with a smile as he closed his bedroom door.

            As Kili entered his own room and readied himself for bed, he couldn’t help thinking that he finally understood why his Uncle Thorin seemed to think being called ‘stubborn’ was term of endearment; because on the lips of much loved Hobbit, it really was.

 

\-----oooooOOOOO88888OOOOOooooo-----

 

            Thorin Oakenshield lazily turned the page of his book as he sat propped up in bed. While normally never one for reading in bed—there were so many other wonderful things to do in a bed, he had to admit that it was pleasant. Of course, he would rather be doing the wonderful things, but right now his husband was pacing the floor of their bedroom.

            “Come to bed, my love,” Thorin said gently.

            “How can you read at a time like this?” Bilbo asked; it was truly question and not an accusation.

            “Easy,” Thorin said a shrug and turned page. “Hobbiton isn’t under an attack, our home isn’t on fire, and the three I hold most dear at under one roof. All’s right with the world.”

            “You know that’s not it,” Bilbo said curtly as he stopped his pacing and put his hands on his hips.

            “Yes, it’s true,” Thorin said not glance up, “Lobelia is still in the world but she is locked out, so it’s still good.”

            “Thorin!” Bilbo huffed out in exasperation.

            “Bilbo!” Thorin said in an uncanny imitation of his husband.

            “You know perfectly well—”

            “Yes I do, and I am telling you to stop right now.” Thorin was done with this.

            “But, Thorin—”

            “Come. To. Bed.” Thorin wasn’t going to continue this discussion with his husband pacing the floor like a caged badger.

            Bilbo sighed and removed his robe. He continued to mutter under his breath things that Thorin couldn’t hear but was sure they were directly at him—what have you. He had been called worse, to his face, and by own his husband. Thorin was also very much aware that this behavior was not to be taken personal and was extremely normal for his fretting Hobbit; just add it to the long list of things he adored about Bilbo Baggins.

            Once Bilbo had settled next to him, heaved another sigh, and finally quieted down; Thorin closed his book, turned and took both of Bilbo’s hands in his own.

            “Azyungel,” Thorin said soothingly, “There is nothing to be done.”

            “But, Thorin,” Bilbo said with almost pleading look. “They could get hurt—both of them.”

            “Yes, they could. In fact, I would say it is very likely that one or both will get hurt.”

            “And yet you say we should just do nothing?”

            “What would you have us do?”

            Bilbo opened his mouth but closed it again; he did this a couple of times before answering. “I don’t know but—”

            “Should we forbid them?”

            Bilbo almost laughed out loud. “Right—because that will work on either of them!”

            “Should we follow them around day and night.”

            “Don’t be ridiculous; of course not.”

            “Did you give Frodo his lecture?”

            “I wouldn’t call it a _lecture_ , more like—”

            “Did you talk to him seriously? Give warnings and tell him to be careful? Perhaps a veiled threat if he were to cause heartache to Kili and in turn myself?”

            Bilbo drew in a breath but did answer, and he looked everywhere but directly at his husband’s amused face.

            “As I thought,” Thorin said with satisfaction. “You gave him a lecture, as I did Kili.”

            “Fine,” Bilbo stated in defeat. “So that’s it, then?”

            “That’s it.”

            “You’re saying we’re done.”

            “Correct.”

            “So if one of them, or both of them, gets hurt we do nothing.”

            “My love,” Thorin said bring both of Bilbo’s hands to his lips and kissing them. “I don’t believe that either of them will intentionally hurt the other.”

            “What about unintentionally?” Bilbo asked softly.

            “Even the happiest of couples, can hurt unintentionally.” Thorin answered gently. “Mahal knows, I’ve done it.”

            “Will you _stop_ bring that up?” Bilbo demanded in a strained whisper. “I _don’t want_ to talk about ever again—you don’t have to feel guilty about it anymore.”

            Thorin waited while Bilbo took a few slow deep breathes and calmed again.

            “Tell me,” Thorin asked as he drew Bilbo closer and then wrapped the Hobbit in his arms. “You aren’t worried about them hurting each other, so much as you are fearful of the guilt that they may live with if they do.”

            Bilbo gave no answer nor made any gesture for several long seconds until he finally nodded against Thorin’s chest. They clung to each other, Bilbo hiccupped through his tears as Thorin’s fell silently but with no less heartache.

            Bilbo was the first to pull back. “Thorin, I wish they never feel pain and guilt as we have.”

            “That is something we cannot control, my love,” Thorin replied. “We can only hope and pray they live happy, fully lives. But there may come a time when something or some event will test them and their love—if love is what they feel.”

            “I can still wish, though.”

            “You certainly can,” Thorin planted a kiss on Bilbo’s curl head.

            There was no more talk, no more words; the candles were extinguished, pillows were fluffed, the covers pulled up and if they snuggled closer and held on tighter to each other through they night, then it was their own business and no one else’s.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Khuz-dul Translations**  
>  âzyungel – love of loves  
> Namad-inùdoy – sister-son (nephew)  
> Idmi baruf-zahar = welcome home (literally, welcome to the house of family)  
> Ghivashith = the treasure (that is young)


	16. Of Blue Skies and a Black Pit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One day in the lives of friends - worlds and destinies apart

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A HUGE THANKS TO THE LOVELY EWEBEAN FOR PERMISSION TO USE THE WONDERFUL ART OF OLDER THORIN AND BILBO!!
> 
> CHECK OUT EWEBEAN'S TUMBLER HERE: http://ewebean.tumblr.com/

 

* * *

 ** _07/29/2994_ ** **_–_ ** **_08:43am_ **

**_The Shire – Bag End_ **

 

**__ **

****

"What a beautiful day!” Bilbo announced out loud as he stood in the doorway of Bag End and stretched in the sunshine of the early morning. There was nothing but gorgeous blue sky as far as the eye could see and what few clouds there were, were small fluffy ones like tiny tuffs of cotton.

            “I’ve to agree with you,” Thorin said as he came up behind his husband and wrapped his arms around the Hobbit. He laid his cheek upon Bilbo’s curly head and slowly breathed in the scent that was all Bilbo Baggins.

            Bilbo turned in Thorin’s arms and bestowed a kiss on husband’s furry cheek. “Happy Birthday, love.”

            “Thank you,” Thorin said with a smile. At that moment, with his love in his arms and his heart feeling complete, he felt very little of his two hundred and forty-eight years; at that moment he felt young.

            “Are you sure you only want a small party?” Bilbo asked with a little pout, sounding every bit of the disappointment he felt. He so wanted to make Thorin’s birthday a wondrous thing.

            “Yes,” Thorin stated firmly. He wanted Bilbo to be happy but he just didn’t want to have a big party. Their boys, the Gamgees and their three youngest children, Samwise, May and Marigold, as well as a few of close friends—Tosco and Queenie Burrows, Mrytle and Farabert Merrywheather, and Gemma and Wazo Greenfield—were the only ones that Thorin agreed on inviting.

            At that moment there was noise behind them and they both turned to see Frodo, run through the house with Kili hot on his trail; Frodo laughing and Kili shouting in Khuz-dul, which would go untranslated for his husband—Thorin didn’t really wanted to hear the sexual innuendos in Khuz-dul let alone repeat them for Bilbo.

            There was a crash of something falling over and Frodo’s shriek at obviously being caught by his Dwarf.

            “What are you two doing?!” Thorin thundered into the smial.

            “Nothing!” Frodo and Kili called back in Unison followed by giggling; somewhere from the direction of the dining room.

            “Nothing, doesn’t knock things over!” Thorin retorted back.

            Bilbo heaved out a sigh. “Those two are going to make me go grey.”

            Thorin just shook his head—honestly; it was like their two boys would never grow up.

            Kili came walking into the parlour with Frodo slung over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes; Frodo was laughing uncontrollably and pounding on Kili’s back as the Dwarf had a tight grip on the Hobbit’s legs and was tickling the poor tween’s feet.

            “All right!” Thorin said gruffly. “That’s enough you two!”

            “Honestly,” Bilbo added with huff. “Can’t you two behave?”

            Kili stopped the tickling and shrugged his free shoulder, while Frodo’s popped up over Kili’s shoulder to smirk at his uncles.

            “Behaving is relative, Uncle Bilbo,” Frodo said cheekily.

            “What do you mean by that remark?” Bilbo wore a rather—adorable, if you asked his husband, waspish look in his face.

            “Well,” Kili replied, trying for innocent. “We're  _related so_  behavior is _irrelevant_.”

            Thorin puffed up. “That isn’t what your uncle meant!”

            Frodo rolled his eyes. “Like you two can talk; You were just smooching and canoodling in the front doorway!”

            “I will have you know,” Bilbo said indignantly, “that we are the very model of respectability.”

            “Mahal’s hairy arse!” Kili barked out.

            “Oh sure,” Frodo said with another eye roll. “When you aren’t having public shouting matches with Aunt Lobelia—”

            “She starts them!” Bilbo didn’t like being on the defensive.

            “And,” Kili added amused, “Uncle Thorin isn’t brandishing his sword in the market!”

            “That happened once!” Thorin also didn’t care to be on the defensive. “A long time ago I might add.”

            “And is _still_ being talked about at every Sterday market!” Frodo of course didn’t add that it was viewed as exciting or that Thorin’s actions made many maids and matrons sigh at his chivalry for his husband.

            “Well,” Kili said a smug look. “As, Frodo said, behavior is relative, so our behavior isn’t that bad considering we are related to you two.”

            Bilbo was shocked— _just shocked!—_ and he looked at his husband for support only to see the big, lovable lug fighting back his laughter at this point. Finally there was nothing left for a respectable Hobbit like himself to do but give in and let his laughter go because frankly, while he was shocked—honestly he was, almost—he couldn’t argue with his nephews points.

            _Well,_ Bilbo thought, _time to get to work._

“Come on you two,” Bilbo said, stepping forward and swatting Frodo on his bottom, which was still hunched over Kili’s shoulder, and then deftly swung his hand around and smacked Kili on his arse. “We three have work to do before company comes.”

            Kili put Frodo down and turned to gape at the back of his retreating Hobbit uncle. “Why just us? What about Uncle Thorin?”

            Bilbo turned and shot the younger Dwarf stern gaze. “It’s his birthday—his job is to sit in his chair, read a book or enjoy his pipe if he wants and do absolutely nothing!”

            “So in other words,” Frodo said quietly but giving his Dwarf Uncle a cheeky smirk, “a normal day.”

            “Why you little—” Thorin made a grab for Frodo who dance just out of reach and ran off, quickly followed by the older Dwarf.

            “Uncle Bilbo!” Frodo called in desperation. “Uncle Thorin is chasing me!”

            Bilbo took out his cookbook, completely unconcerned with what was happening in the smial. “You probably deserve it,” Bilbo called out just as he heard his nephew scream for Kili to help followed by Thorin’s roar that Kili would not be able to save him, which proceeded Kili’s laughter as he ran after the other two.

            Bilbo just sighed and continued to look over the needed recipes. _As Frodo said,_ Bilbo mused to himself, _just a normal day at Bag End._

 

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 **_07/29/2994_ ** **_–_ ** **_10:18am_ **

**_Moria -_ BALIN**

            _How did it come to this?_

_It had started with a dream – a dream to take back that which was lost; all that had been ours, that had been great, that which was our right to have. To achieve that which others said was impossible, and to rise above all that time and others had done to us._

_Now, it’s but a nightmare._

_Once more, I have failed._

_Oh father, forgive me – I brought them all to ruin and I did so in our name. I never meant to bring you shame. When I lost you at The_ _Battle_ _of Azanulbizar, I swore then, that if ever possible, I would seize the chance to take back Khazad-dûm so that your death would not have been in vain. So that future generations would know what you sacrificed your life for. So that your name would resound through the ages; this I would do for you._

_And yet, here I lie, dying with nothing to show for it but disgrace and the deaths of those foolish enough to follow me._

_So convinced was I in my self-righteousness, I turned my back on those that I had called ally, that I had called friend. And even worse, not just friends, but on my own blood as well._

_Dwalin. I should have listened to you brother. I should have paid heed to your warnings and not turned aside from your wisdom. And now, as testament to my mistake, you are not with me at the end so that I can tell you that you were right – this was nothing but madness and folly. Then again, I am glad that you will not meet your end in this woeful place._

_Oh how sorry I am, brother-mine. I took from you that which you cherished most in the world. How ironic, or maybe poetic, that I now die alone and in pain, just as I left you alone and hurting, while your treasure followed me to this abyss and will now die here because of me. Poor Ori will die apart from you and your love and it is my fault._

_I deserve this fate._

_Oh Ori, forgive me. I had only wished to honor Dori and protect you as he asked me to – but in my blindness, I failed to see that you were most protected while you stood by my brother._

_I have failed the three people I loved most in all the world – you, my brother and Dori._

_Oh, Dori. My sweet Dori. My only comfort – if it can be called that – is that you passed on before me and did not live to see what has come to pass. I failed you miserably, my love, my One. I can only beg and pray that if I am so blessed, I will see you in the Halls and you will not only forgive but, perhaps understand._

_When you died, I didn’t want to go on – so long did we both wait to find our One, so long we did not see the truth in each other’s eyes. We had only a few short years together and then you were taken from me. My heart broke and in its poisonous rage its venom knew no bounds; I blame anyone and everyone for your death._

_Oh, my lovely Dori. How we had laughed that we found the Spring of Love in the Winter of our lives._

_I still recall the warmth of your touch, the timber of your voice, the pure joy of your laughter. You were everything I had ever hoped or dreamed of. No Dwarf could have asked for a better companion, a truer partner, a more perfect lover, than that which I found in you._

_As my eyes dim, I can still envision us our quiet solitude – or as Nori would tease, our “boring bliss.” You in your chair by the fire, knitting away and clucking that Ori wasn’t eating enough, or fussing that I worked too much, or worrying over Nori or even stranger, but somehow more endearing, when you huffed that Dwalin should take it easier and not put himself in harm’s way as he was want to do. Oh my sweet, you have no idea how I wish that I could go back in time and be there now with you – sitting across from you in my chair, reading the minutes from the council and just enjoying the crackle of the fire, the sweet smells from the kitchen and hear your voice, just once more, telling me that you love me._

_Wait – Dori?_

_Dori, is that you?_

_Yes! Yes, love, I can hear you._

_Oh, my love – forgive me. I beg you – forgive me!_

_Yes, my sweet – Yes, I understand._

_It’s time – it’s time._

_I’m letting go._

_I’m coming._

 

 

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 **_07/29/2994_ ** **_–_ ** **_03:37pm_ **

**_Moria -_ OIN**

 

            _We should have stayed in Erebor!_

            Oin couldn't stop, he couldn't think about it all--Balin had lingered for three painful days after being shot by a poisoned Orc arrow, only dying late this morning and placed in his hastily constructed tomb. Now, a few hours later, Oin and his group were miles away.

            _We should never have come here!_

The small group of Dwarfs was running, running for their freedom, running for their lives. It felt like they had run all their lives from the screaming hordes that chased them through ancient halls, past soaring columns, and persued them towards the only way out that still remained free.

            _By the Gods – I hope it is still free!_

            They had to leave the others behind and Oin was sorry for that, more sorry than he could express. He had promised Lord Balin, before the Dwarf-lord slipped into unconsciousness that he would watch and care for Ori – make sure the boy stayed safe.

            But it wasn’t to be.

            They had been a tight group but the Orcs were too much, too many. They crawled up from the depths and down from the ceiling like so many roaches coming to feast on the dead. In all the chaos and fighting, they had split up. Now there were two groups – one running and another left behind. Left behind to do what, no one could say but Oin, Floi and Nali and those few with them knew that the chances of survival for the others was slim to none.

            _Ori, please forgive me for not protecting you. I fear I have not only let you down but Lord Balin, your brother and your husband. By Mahal, if I make it out of here, Dwalin will kill me for sure!_

Oin could hear Nali crying as he ran beside him. _Let him cry. I would be the last one to tell him, no. If I could, I would cry with you, my boy._

            Oin had done his crying back in Erebor. It had been his crying that brought him here. It had been the one death he couldn’t prevent that had sent him over the edge.

            _Poor Bifur. I had saved you all those years ago, after Azanulbizar – you were the greatest friend I ever had and in the end, I couldn’t even save you from a simple illness of Men! Of all the things to end your life – some disease! Well, I still think it was the damn Men’s fault! Filthy beings, no sense of cleanliness, no care for others!   We would have been better to stay in Erebor and just cut ties and be done with it! If Dain had done that in the first place than you would still be alive my friend! You would still be there for me to talk to, play chess with – someone who understood me!_

_But no, like everything else in this world, along comes another race and they take away what is treasured and precious to us. The Men with their diseases and the Elves with their tricks! The only being outside of Dwarrow that I ever gave a lick for Bilbo Baggins. Now there was a being to call Dwarf-friend if I ever saw one! If only the world were filled with more like Bilbo – none of this would have happened at all! If there was more like Bilbo, you would still be here Bifur – I would still have you as my friend!_

            There! Yes there is was – the Western Door!

            The screeching was getting closer. Sadly, Nali’s crying comes to an abrupt halt when an arrow comes out through his forehead and he falls dead before he ever hits the ground. Floi is out front and he screams the password and he, Oin and two other’s that Oin cannot name rush out into the dark of night.

            One of the unnamed Dwarfs turns to fire an arrow at the closing Orcs, but it is in vain. It’s all in vain.

            There is an explosion of water and suddenly all four dwarfs are lifted off their feet. Oin only has time to look down at the horror that emerges from the lake with a gapping mouth before he is falling towards it. Only one thing passes through his mind.

            _We should never have come!_

 

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 **_07/29/2994_ ** **_–_ ** **_05:11pm_ **

**_Moria -_ ORI**

 

            “Ori! What are you doing?!” Loni screamed, his fear obvious.

            “I’m coming! Give me a minute!” Ori yelled back.

            “Stop messing with that damn book!” Frar shouted. “We have to shore up this door!”

            “Just give me a fucking minute!” Ori would not be deterred. He slipped the envelope into the pocket of the back cover and then set his book down by Balin’s tomb.

            He rushed over and helped the other two reinforce the chamber door.

            “That should buy us some time.” Loni says, not truly believing what he said.

            Ori retreated back to this book and began to scribble as furiously as possible. He would not leave his mission undone. Even if it means death, he would leave a record for anyone that may come after – so that even in death, it will not have been vain. But then so much already has been in vain.

            Balin had died a slow and painful death from the Orc poison. He had forced Oin to promise to watch out for and care for Ori, but Ori knew that it would come to an empty promise. Finally, Balin began crying and begging Ori to forgive him and calling for Dori before he finally slipped into unconsciousness.

            Poor Balin.

            Ori knew that he blamed himself for Ori’s fate but really, Ori knew that his fate was his own. There was one person to blame and that was the Dwarf that stared back at him in the mirror. He had been so taken by grief and blinded by what he perceived as slights. He had been so cruel and hateful. He had heard there were stages to grief and death but Ori hadn’t believed any of that – at least he didn’t. He thought his anger at Dori’s death as normal and that Dwalin had just – well, it didn’t matter now.

            No matter what Balin said, Ori knew he had followed him of his own free will. It was just sad that now here at the end that Ori realized that his will had been driven by anger, fear, dread, pain, even love but not in a good way.

            “Do you think the others made it out?” One of the young ones asked, Ori couldn’t remember his name and frankly, didn’t care at that moment.

            “I hope someone did,” Loni said, softly.

            “It won’t be us – that’s for sure,” Frar had already given up.

            Ori scribbled away. He could feel time slipping away from them.

            Suddenly there was a growing hurricane of screeching and screams and they all knew – the time had come. They all readied their weapons. Ori wanted to laugh, four dwarrow against hundreds – _Dwalin would think it great odds._

            Dwalin. Ori wanted to cry but felt he didn’t deserve to shed tears for his lost warrior. _He deserved better than me. He always did._

            “HERE THEY COME!” Loni Screamed.

            The door blew inwards and there was nothing but a flood of Orcs. There were screams and yells and curses and just as Ori signed his name, two arrows pierced him and he could do nothing more but close the book.

            As his life ebbed away, there was no Dwarf left alive to hear that last word on his lips.

            “Dwalin.”

 

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 **_07/29/2994_ ** **_–_ ** **_08:54pm_ **

**_The Shire – Bag End_ **

 

            “Thorin?”

            The Dwarf turned to gaze over his shoulder at Bilbo with a lazy smile.

            “Why are you out here all alone?” Bilbo asked with a soft, gentle voice.  

            “Just enjoying the evening.”

            The quiet was what he enjoyed the most really, as Thorin sat on the bench in the back garden; his pipe had gone out long ago but he was just fine with staring up at the stars. The crickets were out and a lone bird sang a beautiful, mournful song up in the Oak Tree above Bag End.

            There were only a couple of people left inside; Hamfast and his wife Bell, Sam stayed but their oldest girl, Daisy, had come and taken May and Marigold home. Sam and Frodo’s friend, Rosie Cotton, had stopped by and she was now inside laughing with the rest. Such a sweet girl, Thorin could easily see that Sam was quite taken with the golden hair tween with pretty ribbons in her hair. Not that Sam would have the courage to speak to her on his own behalf any time soon; Thorin wondered if he should get Bilbo involved in that.

            Bilbo sat close to his husband. “Did you have a nice birthday?”

            Thorin put an arm around his love’s shoulders; drawing Bilbo closer to him.  “It was a perfect day.”

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sterday - Hobbit day of the week, equivalent to Saturday
> 
> \------------
> 
> Moria – From Sindarin, mor ("black, dark") and iâ ("void, abyss")
> 
> According to Tolkien canon, Dwarfs did march with the last alliance and assisted with the defeat of Sauron. In fact, the great sword of Men, Narsil was forged by the great Dwarf weaponsmith, Telchar in the First Age.
> 
> If one does reach, it says were the named Dwarfs fallen. I have tried to stick to canon when I could. However, in the case of Moria, I played lose with Floi, Nali, Loni and Frar for dramatic purposes.
> 
> \------------
> 
> There is no date given for Thorin's birthday - so as any writer does, I wrote what i know, and gave him mine!


	17. The Road Goes Ever On and On

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bilbo and Thorin leave The Shire and head home - one last time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AGAIN - PRAISE TO THE WONDROUS EWEBEAN FOR THE ART IN THIS CHAPTER!!
> 
> HERE IS A LINK TO EWEBEAN'S TUMBLER: http://ewebean.tumblr.com/

 

* * *

  ** _09/22/3001_ **

 

**__ **

**_LOVE NEVER GROWS OLD_ **

 

            Bilbo walked quickly to retrieve a map from one of the books in the Oak Hall. He had been waylaid enough times by people coming by and giving him birthday greetings and wishes and cakes! _Honestly! If one more person bangs on that door—_ Bilbo didn’t even get to finish that thought when a rather loud and _rude_ knock sounded.

            _That’s it!_

“No THANK YOU!” Bilbo bellowed down the Entrance Hall. “We don’t anymore visitors, well-wishers, or distant relations!”

            “And what about very old friends?” Came a gruff but highly amused voice from the other side of the round, green door.

            He knew that voice!

            Bilbo was at the door in a heartbeat; pulling it back before you could say Bombur’s your uncle!

            “Gandalf?” The Elderly Hobbit took in the tall, grey clad Wizard with amazement—he hadn’t really expected him to show.

            “Bilbo Baggins,” Gandalf said affectionately.

            “Dear Gandalf!” Bilbo rushed forward just as Gandalf kneeled. It had seemed like ages and ages since they’d seen him and to finally have his dear friend there was almost too much.

            “Good to see you,” Gandalf said softly as he hugged his friend. “One hundred and eleven years old; who would believe it?” Gandalf quipped gently and pulled back looking a bit astonished. “You haven’t aged a day.”

            The wizard contemplated for a few beats before just laughing it off—so did Bilbo. What else could they do?

            “Come on,” Bilbo said with a new bounce in his step. “Come in!”

            Gandalf entered the comfortable Hobbit smial and released a happy sigh—it was good to be back.

            “Welcome. Welcome,” Bilbo offered and took his staff. “Tea? Or maybe something a little stronger? I’ve got a few bottles of the old Wineyard left—twelve-ninety-six, a _very_ good year! Almost as old as I am!” Bilbo took off for the pantry, clearly overjoyed at having his friend back in his home. “It was laid down by my father—what’s say we open one.”

            “Just tea, thank you,” Gandalf said, backing into the damned chandelier. He had to chuckle to himself—but his laugh was halted by the support beam he smacked his head on. “Ooh!”

            “I was expecting you sometime last week,” Bilbo called out from the pantry. “Not that it matters,” Bilbo said and then adding almost offhandedly, “you come and go as you please—always have done, always will.” All this was followed by the sounds of Bilbo’s puttering and looking. “You caught us a bit unprepared, I’m afraid—we’ve only got cold chicken, and some pickled—we got some cheese here—uhm—some raspberry jam—”

            Gandalf smiled to himself affectionately—raspberry jam was Thorin’s favorite and the very idea of Bilbo Baggins not having Thorin’s favorite— _anything_ , would be like Erebor not having gems or gold—impossible.

            Bilbo continued to putter. Since he hadn’t heard a word from Gandalf about any of the choices offered, Bilbo thought that maybe his friend didn’t want anything heavy. _Maybe he’s eating light and saving himself for the party._

“I could make you some eggs,” Bilbo offered as he came into the parlour, “if you like—” his voice trailed off.

            He was alone.

            _Where’d he go?_ “Gandalf?” Bilbo whispered to himself.

            “Just tea, thank you,” Gandalf said behind Bilbo, which caused the Hobbit to jump a bit.

            “Oh, right,” Bilbo said recovering beautifully and stuffing a piece of cheese in his mouth. “You don’t mind if I do?” Bilbo asked politely, his mouth filled with tasty cheese.

            “Oh no, not at all,” Gandalf said with a smile—as if there was any question of someone stopping Bilbo Baggins for eating.

            There is a sudden pounding on the door and twice in as many minutes Bilbo jumped, this time plastering himself against the wall.

            “Bilbo!” Comes a shrill voice on the other side of the front door. “Bilbo Baggins!”

            Bilbo huffed and peaked out the front window; although he really didn’t need to. “It’s Lobelia!” Bilbo hissed at Gandalf

            “I know you’re in there,” Lobelia’s voice could curdle milk!

            “She and Otho are after the house,” Bilbo rasped out over his shoulder before turning back to Gandalf. “They’ve never forgiven me for living this long!” Bilbo was just about at this wits end with her. “I’ve got away from these confounded relations—always hanging on the bell all day, never giving me a moment’s peace!”

            Speaking of peace, it was at that moment that it was completely shattered.

            There was a double banging of doors as Frodo rushed in from the back while Kili could be heard coming out of his room. Both of these were followed by the sound of heavy footfalls as Thorin charged down the hallway to the kitchen.

            “Uncle Bilbo, I just saw Aunt Lobelia heading this way,” Frodo shouted, a little out of breath, as he entered the kitchen.

            “Bilbo! What have you done with my boots?” Thorin demanded coming in behind Frodo.

            “Uncle! My tunic is coming apart!” Kili sounded distressed as he entered from the parlour.

            Both Bilbo and Gandalf just sat gaped-mouth for moment before Bilbo took charge.

            “Yes, Lobelia was just pounding on the door.”, “You’re boots are in the wardrobe where they _belong_.”, “Let me see your tunic, Kili.”

            “I’m sorry, I tried to get here to warn you, uncle.”, “Why can’t you just leave my boots where I _leave them_?!”, “See, Uncle Bilbo, the embroidery is all coming undone.”

            “Don’t trouble yourself, Frodo, she was always going to find a way to get to me.”, “If I left your confounded boots where _you left them_ , I’d trip over them!”, “This isn’t bad, Kili. I can have this fixed in one flick of lamb’s tail.”

            “I really didn’t want her to ruin your birthday.”, “Oh, I’m so sorry my boots are in your way, _your tidiness_!”, “As long as you don’t mind, Uncle Bilbo—I wanted to wear this tonight.”

            “She far from ruined it, Frodo. We’ll just have to avoid her—you know she will crash the party.”, “Don’t get _saucy_ with me, Thorin Oakenshield, or next time you may find your boots _buried deep_ in the compost pile!”, “It’s never a problem, Kili. This is easy work—I’ll have it ready for you for tonight.

            “Understood, Uncle Bilbo,” Frodo said pleasantly as he stepped forward and gently took his lover’s tunic out of Bilbo’s hand. “And don’t worry about Kili’s tunic, I’ll take care of it.” Frodo winked at Kili and tugged on the Dwarf’s arm so that he would follow. “Come with me, you,” Frodo whispered and Kili did.

            Bilbo now turned his full attention to his husband.

            “Why must you always be so _fussy_?!” Thorin demanded.

            “Because, you’re so _messy_!” Bilbo retorted.

            “You could at least tell me when you move my things!”

            “If I did that, I wouldn’t have time in the day to do anything else!”

            “Infuriating Hobbit!” The Dwarf growled out as he turned to go.

            “Pig-headed Dwarf!” The Hobbit said to Thorin’s retreating back.

            Bilbo took a deep, calming breath and rolled his shoulders, before turning back to Gandalf who was sitting there wearing the most annoyingly smug smirk on his face, as far as Bilbo was concerned.

            “What’s _so_ funny?” Bilbo asked.

            “Oh, nothing,” Gandalf answered innocently. “Just glad to see that some things never change.”

            Bilbo raised an eyebrow. “I’m sure I don’t know what you mean.” Bilbo turned back to his tea and took a sip, resolved to ignore Gandalf and his smugness.

            It was but a minute before they were joined once again by the former Dwarf-king. “So, what are you two troublemakers talking about?” Thorin asked as he came back into the kitchen.

            “Just how ridiculous you are,” Bilbo answered sweetly as he turned his face upward towards his husband; waiting for his customary greeting.

            “If you want to see ridiculous,” Thorin said calmly, as he leaned down and gave a much-desired kiss to his husband. “I suggest you look in the mirror.”

            As Thorin sat down at the table, he bestowed his husband with a gentle smile.

            “What do you need me to do?” Thorin asked sincerely.

            “Nothing, love,” Bilbo said quietly. “Frodo has it all under control.”

            Thorin got a tinkle in his eye. “Are you _sure_ there isn’t anything you want from me?” The innuendo was not lost on anyone.

            “There might be something,” Bilbo purred with a knowing look. “Later, before the party,”

            As they looked at each other lovingly, they heard a snicker from the other side of the table.

            “What is _so funny_?!” Bilbo asked, irritated. But Gandalf just shook his head.

            “What is he laughing about?” Thorin asked confused.

            “Pay _no_ attention to him,” Bilbo said waspishly.

            Thorin just shook his head and said under his breath, “Wizards.”

            “Don’t try and figure him out,” Bilbo said with a wave of his hand. “You’ll only get a headache.”

            “No arguments there,” Thorin replied flatly, which for some unknown reason just made Gandalf laugh even harder. “I need some tea.” Thorin made to stand but a small hand on his shoulder made him stop.

            “I’ll get it,” Bilbo said and stood before Thorin could protest.

            Gandalf gives Thorin a level look and Thorin does not shy away. There was much that is unsaid and unasked that passes between them.

            “Tell me, Thorin,” Gandalf asks quietly. “Any wishes for Bilbo’s Birthday?”

            Thorin waited a beat or two before answering in a low voice, “I wish to see the mountain again.” It wasn’t really a secret, nor was the reason.

            Bilbo turns slowly when he heard the low answer given by his spouse. What he wished not to discuss was hanging uncomfortably in the air. _No, Thorin just misses his home. He just wants to visit before_ —Bilbo didn’t want to finish that thought.

            Not at all.

            “I think—we both wish—that,” Bilbo says, trying his best to seem casual. “Don’t we, dear?” He places Thorin’s tea on the table before the Dwarf, then rested the same hand on his husband’s shoulder; desperate to feel the solid, real, still living being he loved so much.

            Thorin continued to stare at Gandalf, even as he answered his One. “Of course, sanâzyung.”

            “And I also wish,” Bilbo said smiling as if there wasn’t a worry in the world, “to find a place that I can finish my book!” Bilbo laughed as he took his seat. _Yes, it’s all funny—very funny indeed. Nothing here to be upset about._

            “So,” Gandalf said with a chuckle, clearly going along with Bilbo. “You intend to follow through with your plans, then?”

            “Oh yes,” Bilbo said with a smile. “All the arrangements are made.”

            “We have an escort meeting us in Bree,” Thorin added.

            “Escort?” Gandalf didn’t hear about this.

            “Fili thought it best,” Thorin continued. “He sent a missive to Khagolabbad; four warriors are meeting us in Bree and will accompany us to Erebor.”

            “Only four,” Gandalf mused. “Why so few?”

            “Well, Kili is going with us,” Bilbo replied. “And I would think between Thorin, Kili and the extra Dwarfs we will have plenty of company.” _Because that is all it is, just company, just for us to have merry company so that the journey goes faster. That’s all._

            “And what of Frodo?” Gandalf seemed surprised that the younger Hobbit would allow his Dwarf to go off and leave him behind.

            “He’s coming as well,” Thorin stated in a tone that spoke of Gandalf’s question being ridiculous.”

            “Ah,” Gandalf said with a smile. “So Kili will be returning than?”

            “Oh, yes!” Bilbo confirmed. He now understood Gandalf’s confusion. “Kili and Frodo are only going to accompany us. They will most like stay through the winter and then return home next spring.”

            “And who will be watching Bag End?”

            “Master Gangree,” Thorin replied.

            Frankly, Hamfast and Bell Gamgee were the only people both Thorin and Bilbo trusted to stand guard against Lobelia. Messages and letters were already written and exchanged with The Thain, The Mayor and First Shirriff, not to mention copies left with Hamfast, so that there was absolutely no question what so ever of who owns Bag End.

            “When do you leave then?” Gandalf questioned now that all seemed to be in order.

            “Immediately after the party,” Bilbo answered.

            “We have a small wagon already loaded,” Thorin replied. “And we should make Bree in four to five days if all goes well.”

            “Very good.” Gandalf said, clearly satisfied. “This then should go down as a night to remember.” The wizard was clearly amused. “The second adventure of Bilbo Baggins!”

 

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            It was hilarious, but then, Thorin should have expected it to just get better and better all night!

            First there was the arrival; everyone wanted to greet Bilbo and shake his hand and wish him well. So many relatives, neighbors and friends went by that Thorin got dizzy and didn’t even try to keep up. Bilbo did catch sight of Lobelia and Otho sneaking into the party but they knew better than to approach the master of Bag End while the Dwarf-king stood by his side. However, Bilbo and Thorin had to try very hard to suppress laughing out loud.

            Next came all the compliments regarding their matching outfits. Thorn wore deep wine-colored pants that matched Bilbo’s velvet evening jacket. Bilbo accompanied the jacket with his best deep red double-breasted weskit in the same color as Thorin’s tunic. Thorin wore black boots on his feet and these matched not only Bilbo’s black pants, but also the black satin lapels on Bilbo’s jacket. Thorin never did take to Hobbit clothes but then Bilbo never requested him to, nor had Thorin ever asked Bilbo to dress Dwarfish when they lived in Erebor; Bilbo always knew the perfect thing to wear at what occasion.

            As the evening wore on and the gifts were given out, everyone was pleased with this small trinket or that lovely ring or this beautiful necklace or those wondrous earrings. Books were given out as well, some were rare editions others were new copies of old classics. There was even a hidden box of silver spoons with Lobelia’s name on it—of course Bilbo had insisted that there be an odd number of them, knowing that would irritate her more than him actually figuring out she would come despite not being invited.

            But when the cake was brought out and Bilbo stood to give his speech, Thorin knew that the night’s best entertainment was about to start. There were cheers and laughed as Bilbo spoke but a great number of Hobbits didn’t get the joke about being liked half-as-well as others but knowing them only half-as-well as being deserved— _what?!_

            Honestly, when Bilbo put on the ring and disappeared, Thorin was convinced that Kili and Frodo would embarrass each other and, by extension, him and Bilbo, because they were about to fall over and piss themselves. But even Thorin had to admit, the looks on everyone’s face and the screams and shocked indignations and the questions— _should we just keep eating? Will he be back? It’s Bilbo; of course the party was going to be mad! Did he go to get more presents?—_ were all just too much and he had to let loose a laugh himself. Finally he stood and told everyone not to worry and to please continue with the party, he wasn’t the least concerned and they shouldn’t either, and please have more cake and ale.

            Thorin excused himself and, along with his nephews, made his way up to Bag End to gather his beloved and start their journey.

            He was excited; there was no two ways about it. Was he worried about their long weeks ahead? Naturally. Who wouldn’t be? But they were going to be stopping at Rivendell for seven to ten days, then continuing on to see Beorn to stay a handful of days or a week there, and then finally travel through Mirkwood, to Lake Town and then finally to Dale, before entering Erebor in about two and half months time if all went to plan.

            If anything Thorin wasn’t looking forward to Mirkwood but Bilbo had once again dealt with Thranduil and asked if they could have an escort meet them—to speed along the journey, then Bilbo, Elf-friend, would be very grateful. Thorin wanted to snort at the pompous letter Bilbo wrote but his little One had no intension of dealing with an argument between himself and the King of Mirkwood, and apparently the sickening sweet reply from Thranduil meant that the king didn’t want any argument with Bilbo either.

            _Smart move on his part_ , thought Thorin.

            As Thorin and his nephews came through the front door of Bag End, things definitely had definitely taken a strange turn. For one, Bilbo and Gandalf seemed to be having some sort of standoff between them. Thorin could swear he felt the crackle of Gandalf’s magic in the air, but that could just be the tension that was so thick he could have cut it with Orcrist. But it was the obvious anger that was swirling between the old friends that couldn’t be denied.

            “What in Durin’s name is going on?” Thorin demanded as he made his way to Bilbo’s side.

            “Gandalf is trying to tell me how to live my life!” Bilbo threw out, but never took his eyes from the wizard’s face.

            “I think you’ve had that ring long enough,” Gandalf said, keeping his steely gaze on Bilbo.

            “What business is it yours,” Thorin barked, “what Bilbo does with his own things?!”

            “He just wants it for himself!” Bilbo spat out as he punched the air in Gandalf’s direction, clearly willing to fight for his precious.

            “BILBO BAGGINS!” Gandalf roared as the room grew dark and Bag End groaned and creaked as if it could barely contain the power Gandalf threatened to unleash. “DO NOT TAKE FOR SOME CONJURER OF CHEAP TRICKS!”

            Thorin gathered Bilbo to him and backed them both against the wall, while Kili did the same with Frodo, but pulled the young Hobbit away from the parlour completely.

            However, as quick as the darkness had enveloped the smial, it receded and Gandalf seemed to shrink to his normal self.

            “I’m not trying to rob you,” the wizard stated firmly. “I’m trying to help you.”

            Bilbo was on the verge of tears and turned his face to his husband’s chest, while Thorin wrapped his arms around his Hobbit and cradled him softly to him.

            Gandalf knelt down next to the couple and laid a gentle hand on Bilbo’s back. “All these long years,” the wizard whispered, “we’ve been friends. Trust me as you once did; let it go.”

            Bilbo pulled back and gazed at Gandalf before turning to look at Thorin.

            “Let it go, sanâzyung,” Thorin said his voice thick with an unstated emotion. “It is but a trinket; don’t choose gold over those that love you.”

            “No,” Bilbo said. “No, you’re right—you’re both right. The ring must go to Frodo.”

            Bilbo turned completely and found that Frodo and Kili had come to stand next to Gandalf and Bilbo slowly reached into his pocket and drew out the simple, golden band that had seemed so important just minutes ago. He held out his hand and opened it to reveal the ring and only felt a moment’s hesitation as Frodo took the ring from him.

            “I should put it somewhere safe,” Frodo said, looking down at himself; he had only his shirt pocket which was too loose and his pants pockets but clearly didn’t feel that was a good idea either.

            “Here,” Kili said softly and moved to take something from around his neck. “I was going to give this to you later, but now seems a good time.” Kili held out a fine chain of polished mithril with a small silver medallion on it that read _‘Sangimlel’_ in Westron. “That way, you can’t loose it.”  Frodo smiled as the clasp was undone and he threaded the chain through the ring. Kili then moved behind him and re-clasped his gift so that ring and medallion hung just over his heart.

            “Thank you,” Frodo said and gave his love a kiss.

            At that moment, the front door opened and Hamfast and Bell Gamgee rushed in.

            “Better get a move on, Mister Bilbo,” Hamfast stated quickly.

            “Lobelia is on her way up here!” Bell supplied immediately.

            “Oh, sticklebats!” Bilbo and Frodo chorused together.

            “I will not be sorry to show her our backsides!” Thorin spat out darkly as he made to gather his things.

            “That’s only because you want her to kiss yours!” Bilbo quipped.

            “Well, she can pack a picnic and kiss it all day long, as far as I’m concerned!” Thorin threw out with a sneer. “I’ll still hate that woman.”

            Kili and Frodo took off to grab their cloaks and traveling gear and within two minutes all where heading out the cellar door. Gandalf had his own cart and horse ready to go and the loaded, covered wagon was ready as Thorin swung up into the seat before helping Bilbo up. They had truly packed light; a few packs of clothes, a couple of small barrels of pipeweed, a few possessions and of course supplies, but they knew that the only true things of importance were each other.

            Kili and Frodo mounted their ponies and made to follow as Bilbo and Thorin wished the Gamgees good luck, good fortunes and long lives before making themselves comfortable in the back of the wagon.

            “Are you all right, my love?” Thorin whispered as Bilbo settled next to him; still a perfect fit like two puzzle pieces.

            “Of course,” Bilbo replied, snuggling as close as he could. “I’m with you—what more could I need?”

 

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            The journey to Rivendell was almost boring if one were to have asked Thorin and Kili. Not an Orc pack or Troll in sight; not counting the three stone trolls in the Trollshaws. Of course, Bilbo and Frodo thought the journey very lovely and pleasant and enjoyed the woodlands and trees. Since neither Dwarf had any intention of upsetting their respective Hobbit, Thorin and Kili kept their opinions to themselves.

            The four Dwarrow warriors they met in Bree where staid, but a merry group and the journey did seem to go faster with them. They asked many questions of the retaking of Erebor and almost every night, Bilbo retold some part of the quest while they all sat by the campfire; the warriors listening like Dwarflings to the imaginative and animated former consort. Thorin watched with a gentle smile as he loved to hear Bilbo tell their tales; never once feeling that he had to interject or correct—even when his One seemed to exaggerated Thorin’s heroics or majestic behavior.

            However, as uneventful and pleasant as the journey was, by the time they rode through the gates of Rivendell, the traveling had taken its toll on the elder members of the company.

            As the riders dismounted and began to gather their packs, Thorin exited the wagon just as the Lord of Imladris came down the last few stairs to greet his guests.

            “King Thorin,” Elrond said with warm smile. “Welcome to Rivendell.”

            “Thank you, Lord Elrond,” Thorin said returning the Elf’s smile. “It is an honor to be back in your gracious home.”

            “And where is your consort?” Elrond asked.

            “He is here,” Bilbo called out as he came out the back of the wagon. “And he would be glad to greet his host if _someone_ would be so kind as to assist him out of this infernal wagon.”

            Thorin was right there and held out an arm for Bilbo to steady himself. “Do you need your cane?” Thorin quipped with a smirk.

            “Bite you tongue!” Bilbo shot back. “Besides, it’s a steady stick, nothing more. You’re the one with the cane.”

            “It’s not a cane,” Thorin said giving Bilbo a scowl. “It’s a walking axe.”

            “Cane—walking axe—what’s the difference?” Bilbo

            “A walking axe is a weapon,” Thorin said rather smug expression. “Used for personal protection—that _may_ at times provide assistance with standing or walking. A cane, on the other hand, is a long shaft of wood, with a handle on top, specifically designed and used for assisting with standing or ambulating that could—possibly— _maybe_ , be used as some form of weapon; but not usually.”

            “Oh really?” Bilbo said sardonically. “Such fancy words—are _you_ the writer now?”

            “I certainly know the precise definition of an object.”

            “And yet you fail to remember the definition of the word _discretion_.”

            “I remember—it’s the hallmark of insufferable Hobbits.”

            “I wonder what the hallmark of crusty, stubborn Dwarrow is then.”

            “Noble.”

            “Noble! Ha! Noble, my hairy feet.”

            “And welcome to Rivendell, Master Baggins,” Elrond said attempting to quell the argument between his guests before he actually started laughing—out loud!

            “Thank you,” Bilbo graced the Elf with a sweet smile. “Perhaps you have a tonic for Thorin? I know his back is very stiff after our journey.”

            “I’m fine,” Thorin said evenly. “However, I am sure that you will need something for your paining joints.”

            “Don’t give me that,” Bilbo said, hooking an arm through Thorin’s elbow. “I know you too well for _‘I’m fine’_ to work with me.”

            Thorin huffed out a heavy sigh. “Must you be so waspish? Travel truly no longer agrees with you.”

            “Travel agrees with me just fine, _thank you_. And for the record I am _not_ waspish, you are just being cranky.”

            “That’s the mattock calling the pickax sharp!”

            “STOP! Both of you,” Kili couldn’t take it anymore. Thorin and Bilbo slowly turned to look at their nephew with confusion. “All you two do is fight.”

            Thorin stiffened at the accusation and Bilbo openly gaped.

            “We do not _fight_ ,” Thorin stated indignantly.

            “You do!” Frodo added with a laugh at the Thorin’s statement. “You insult each other left, right and center!”

            Bilbo turned to Thorin with a look of distress. “Did I insult you?”

            Thorin shook his head. “You did no such thing, my love.”

            “He called you cranky and stubborn,” Kili added flatly to Thorin.

            “And _he_ called him insufferable,” Frodo said to Bilbo.

            “I didn’t mean it insultingly,” Bilbo said quietly.

            “You _didn’t_ insult me,” Thorin stated gently. “You were simply pointing out my—,” Thorin struggled a moment for the right words. “Character traits,” Thorin added with a smile to his husband before turning a fierce glare on his two meddling nephews. “And I will thank our nephews to keep their noses out of their Uncles’ private conversations which are _not_ their concern!”

            Kili threw a hand up in defeat; while Frodo just shook his head and took Kili’s other hand in his own. Lord Elrond issued a small cough behind his hand to hide a growing smile, while Gandalf on the other hand made no effort to disguise his amusement at the old, married couple.

            “And I apologize, my love,” Thorin said to Bilbo as they started walking towards the main building. “If my use of ‘insufferable’ was taken as an insult.”

            “Oh, nonsense,” Bilbo replied soothingly. “You know better than most that in The Shire, that would almost considered a compliment.”

            Kili just stared at the backs of his retreating uncles and shook his head. “I will never understand those two,” Kili said to no one in particular, as all the rest of the travelers and Lord Elrond, made to slowly follow the royal couple from a distance.

            “And that, Master Dwarf,” Lord Elrond said gently, “Is the first step in realizing that there will be no winning against their combined force.”

            After being shown to their rooms, stowing their things away and taking bathes and cleaning up, everyone felt refreshed and much more relaxed.

            Dinner was soon served; Bilbo and Frodo quite happy with that announcement. Bilbo was pleased to meet Elrond’s daughter, Arwen, who had been living in Lothlorien when he had first come through on the Quest for Erebor, and of course Elrond’s twin sons, Elladan and Elrohir.

            Bilbo and Thorin told Lord Elrond of their time in the Shire and if Elrond had any indication as to the purpose of their now returning to Erebor, he never said.

            Finally the night was descending and while they younger travelers remained for entertainment and merriment, Bilbo and Thorin decided that it was time for them to retire for the evening and catch up on much needed rest. Not to mention alone time, which both were feeling the lack of.

            As promised, or requested depending on who you asked, there were two small bottles of tonic waiting for the pair once their returned to their room. Bilbo had no problem taking his and his hip was glad for it. Thorin on the other hand was much less so.

            “Ugh—vile!” Thorin grimaced as the put the now empty tonic bottle on the bedside table.

            “It will help your back, love,” Bilbo said quietly as he sat in bed; he didn’t even look up from his book.

            “I think I’d rather drink Orc piss,” Thorin countered as he changed into his nightshirt.

            “You say that like you know what it tastes like.”

            “I’ll refrain from comment as my husband is too delicate for such matters.”

            Bilbo humphed out a laugh as he turned another page. “You’re husband is not as delicate as you think he is.”

            “I’ll have you know,” Thorin stretched as he pulled the shirt over his head and his back cracked loudly with the movements. “That my husband is a gentle soul—the perfect picture of a respectable Hobbit.”

            “He sounds dull,” Bilbo said offhandedly as he turned a page.

            “Careful,” Thorin replied in playful warning. “I will gladly defend my husband’s honor if needed.”

            “Well, _my husband_ ,” Bilbo said giving Thorin a look over his spectacles, “Is the epitome of Dwarrow strength, he will protect me most fiercely.”

            “Is that so?”

            “Oh yes. He could fight three Orcs and an Elf at the same time and come out the victor.”

            “Sounds like a brute to me.” Thorin sat on the edge of the bed beside Bilbo, gently taking the book from his Hobbit’s hands then leaned in to kiss the tender skin below Bilbo’s ear.

            “I will have you know, sir,” Bilbo turned his head so that Thorin had greater access to his ear and neck. “He is _nothing_ of the sort.”

            “And pray tell,” Thorin asked softly as he nuzzled the pointed shell of Bilbo’s right ear. “Is this fierce brute of yours the jealous type?”

            “Oh, yes” Bilbo said, a little breathless. “He is most possessive.”

            “So, not only a brute,” Thorin whispered. “But a tyrant as well.”

            “And what of this _bore_ you call a spouse?” Bilbo cooed

            “He does not care to share me with others,” Thorin ghosted his lips down Bilbo’s neck which caused the Hobbit to shiver.

            “Ah, a hoarding, selfish bore then,” Bilbo murmured as he brought his lips to Thorin’s cheek.

            “Not at all,” Thorin breathed as his lips touched Bilbo’s chin. “My husband’s completely selfless; he is all I ever hoped or dreamed of.”

            “And mine, is nothing but perfection,” Bilbo sighed and moved forward to capture Thorin’s lips with his own.

            The world receded at that point and they spent their first night in Rivendell in quiet peace together, fitted and snuggled together as they had been that very first night under the stars by the campfire at the base of the Carrock. In all their long years, that brief moment before sleep took them, when they heard nothing but the other’s heartbeat, felt the warmth of arms about them and heard the gentle murmur of ‘I love you’ from the other’s lips, was their favorite.

            Now, on their last journey in this life, here in the last homely house east of the sea, that moment was no different but so much more precious.

 

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            After a ten-day rest with the Elves of Imladris, the company moved on again but this time with more company. Elladan and Elrohir decided that they would accompany the group through the Misty Mountains to Beorn’s lands.

            Once there, the shape shifter welcomed his old friends, was pleased to welcome the Elven twins to his home and was tickled to laughter to meet a second Hobbit. Needless to say, Kili was just as unhappy to have Frodo fussed over by Beorn as Thorin had been during their quest when Bilbo was Beorn’s object of attention.   If the Hobbits were upset or bothered by being kept close by their Dwarfs throughout their four-day stay with the bear-man, Bilbo and Frodo said nothing about it.

            When it was time to leave and make for Mirkwood, Elladan and Elrohir decided to continue on until the Elves of the Woodland Realm met the company. At the Elven gate, Prince Legolas was there with a group of five other Elves to escort the royal couple through the woods and safely to Laketown. King Thranduil did extend an offer to stay within his fortress and spend a day or two at the company’s leisure. However, Bilbo was well aware of Thorin’s reluctance and frankly, seeing how Thranduil had not expressed the offer in any letter, nor had presented the offer himself—in person, Bilbo felt that the invitation was only given in a token of hospitality and therefore, had not intention of accepting; feeling no guilt or shame in declining.

            After the long trip through Mirkwood and on through to Dale, the company was quite tired and worn out. Frodo, not used to such traveling was exhausted, even with all there was to be seen and Kili did his best to comfort his love, which was appreciated by the young Hobbit. King Bain welcomed Thorin and Bilbo and invited them and their company to stay in the king’s palace; which they did for two days. The only ones that didn’t stay where there four warriors who rode straight on to Erebor.

            So it was, that two and half months after leaving The Shire, former King Thorin II, his Consort, Bilbo Baggins, son of Bungo, Prince Kili, son of Dis, daughter of Thrain, his companion and love, Frodo Baggins of Bag End, and the Wizard Gandalf the Grey, entered Erebor with all the fanfare of returning heroes.

            It take several minutes for everyone to actually dismount, exit the wagon, distract themselves—what have you, before they could all properly be greeted by King Fili and his Chief Advisor, his mother, the good Lady Dis. Thorin and Bilbo were hugged and kissed, as was Kili, until they finally had to say ‘Enough’ with a chuckle. Gandalf was welcomed as an old family member who had finally come home to visit.

            But it was Frodo that brought both Fili and Dis to a stand still. Both had planned to tease Kili to no end and see if Frodo was a flusterable as his Uncle Bilbo; however, his bright blue eyes, sweet smile, and impeccable manners made such plans evaporate before even coming into play. Not even Fili could find it in him to tease Kili later, so happy he was for his brother.

            There was a small family feast that night for the royals and then a large, kingdom-wide feast the next to welcome Thorin and Bilbo back to Erebor. It was at the large feast that Kili caught sight of his brother, chatting—almost intimately, with the young progressive Lord that had been appointed to the council after Lords Ovar and Brak where removed. Kili found out his name was Calo, son of Dimlo. He was a handsome dwarf with strawberry blond hair and beard, and ice blue eyes.

            Kili had to smile to himself, _Fili always did have an eye for the beautiful ones,_ he thought as he turned to look at Frodo across the table from him, locked in conversation with his mother. _Must be something the Durin men all share, really,_ Kili mused as he also caught sight of his Uncle Thorin gazing lovingly at Uncle Bilbo.

 

 

 


	18. Coming Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Home is where the heart is.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is chapter is a new, unplanned chapter - i hope you enjoy it.

* * *

 

_**12/10/3001** _

            If there was one thing in all the world that still— _still,_ to this day, seemed a bit out of reach for Dis to fully understand, it would have to be Hobbits.

            Just _what_ was the appeal of these seemingly fragile, delicate creatures that seemed to catch the eye of the men around her and reel them in? Oh, She loved them herself—who wouldn’t?—and yes, they were cute, adorable, almost child-like—even now, Bilbo in his advanced age, warmed the hearts of some of the most sturdy, crusty, cantankerous Dwarfs. Yes, they laughed and loved good food—as any good Dwarf, and liked nothing better than to spin a good tale—as any good Dwarf, and they had as much pride and stubbornness as any good Dwarf, but really, what in the name of Durin’s Beard was the singular attraction that caught the Durin men?

            They weren’t all the same. Bilbo was stubborn and fussy, Opal had been sweet but sharp minded, and here was Frodo Baggins—all bright-eyed and mirth filled, yet obviously intelligent. If Dis hadn’t known the three Hobbits were related by blood, she never would have guessed it.

            Of course, there were similarities too. They were all three clever, quick thinking, loyal and true.

            Bilbo could match Thorin any day of the week when it came to stubborn standoffs and frequently had. Yet together they were a near unstoppable force—Thorin the sharp sword to Bilbo stealthy dagger, while shielding the other at the same time; a deadly combination when confronted. Many a Dwarf, petitioner, or adversary had made the mistake to underestimating Bilbo, thinking that he could be overlooked while confronting Thorin directly—metaphorically speaking of course. But Bilbo often saw problems and issues from a completely different angle and that gave the honey-haired Hobbit his ‘in’ and before anyone knew it, Bilbo had exposed the heart of an issue, giving Thorin a clear line of attack. Brilliant!

            Opal had been as sweet as she was beautiful—which was very, but not in any sickeningly, insincere way—she had always been a lovely girl. Even when she sat beside Fili, her calm, kind, almost demure nature seemed to throw off anyone that came looking for a fight and she, disarmingly—like Bilbo, seemed to cut through the preverbal horse-shit that Dwarf Lords and court were often mired in, right to the heart of the matter—she truly was a perfect cool-headed Queen to Fili’s fiery King.

            Now that she thought about it, _that_ was the one thing that Bilbo and Opal had shared in common. That way of seeing things that others missed.

            _Maybe being so much smaller than the other races,_ Dis mused to herself, _gave them a perceptive advantage that others lacked._

            Finally, here before her was another extraordinary Hobbit; Frodo Baggins. Like his uncle, Frodo was sharp-minded yet delicate looking, however Dis had the distinct impression that if pushed, he would rise to the occasion—again like his Uncle Bilbo. Frodo had something in his air, in his very presence, that if one sat still long enough and watched, they could catch a glimmer of something steely, something fierce in his eye. It seemed to vanish in the warmth of his smile and timber of his jaunty laugh, but it was there—though she did have to wonder if Frodo was even aware of it.

            What amazed her really was how loyal and protective of Kili, Frodo was. The two laughed and joked all the time and it was clear to her, as it would be to any mother, that her son truly loved this small, dark haired being with his bright sky-blue eyes and apple round cheeks. But just as clear was the love that Frodo held for her son—and what mother couldn’t admire that.

            _Okay, add that to the list of things in common,_ Dis thought. _These Hobbits loved their Dwarfs just as fiercely as they themselves were loved in return._

            She laughed internally when she remember being against Opal and Fili, only to be bowled over by how much Opal loved her eldest; so willing to put his needs before her own. That had been what defeated her opposition completely in the end. And yet, Opal had been subtle about it; never making Fili feel that he was controlled or led—guided, that was clear, but in a gentle, loving way that brought out only the best in the blond Durin.

            Of course, Bilbo did the same for Thorin. Bilbo deftly guided and assisted Dis’ brother in ways that never demeaned or reduced Thorin’s strength, sovereignty or power, only ever boosting the King.

            And Mahal knows, Bilbo would have thrown his life away if it mean saving Thorin’s. It had been the most humbling thing to realize and most frightening to observe. Dis couldn’t help but shutter at the remembrance of a failed assassination attempt on Thorin’s life but three years after his ascension to the throne. Bilbo had taken a blade to the back when he rushed in to push his husband aside; he had been the first to notice the carefully concealed weapon—along with Dwalin, of course. But the guard wasn’t as close as Bilbo and the assassin, bend on murder, had underestimated the Hobbit’s abilities—as had so many in the past. Thorin had cut down the assassin before most in the hall had even realized what had happened, and then never left his Hobbit’s side as he recovered. From that moment on, Dis never again doubted for a single second what Bilbo and Thorin shared between them.

            It suddenly dawned on Dis that maybe Kili’s solution all those years ago to Erebor’s isolation, was due in part to the influence of the Hobbits—maybe even Frodo himself.

            Maybe in the end it really wasn’t about what the Durin men saw in the Hobbits but what the Hobbits brought out in the Durin men—their best qualities.

            Perhaps that was all Dis really needed to understand.

 

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            “So,” Fili said quietly to his brother, “Love did find you again.”

            “You know that,” Kili replied with a quick glance at Frodo, who was chatting with Bilbo and Uncle Thorin.

            “It’s one thing to get a letter,” Fili pointed out. “It’s totally different to see it in person.”

            “Oh I know,” Kili smirked. “Seeing is believing, and I _believe_ I see something between you and the good Lord Calo.”

            Fili scowled at his brother who in no way was intimidated. “Lord Calo and I are just good friends.”

            “ _Close_ friends is more like it.”

            “Don’t do that Kili.”

            “Do what?”

            “Confirm your stupidity by opening your mouth.”

            “Don’t try and fool me, brother,” Kili said with raised brow. “There is more there between Lord Calo and yourself than you are telling me.”

            Fili waved off the dark-haired prince, reaching for his ale and drinking a good portion before looking off. Fili didn’t say a word—neither of them did, for a good while but the king knew, without turning his head, that his brother was waiting for more and, _damnit_ , Fili wasn’t going to be able to escape this conversation.

            “Look,” Fili said, turning to look Kili in the eye. “Lord Calo and I are simple good friends.”

            “Close friends,” Kili countered again.

            “All right, yes,” Fili sighed. “We are close friends, but not _just_ the way you are thinking.”

            Kili only sat there, his arms crossed over his chest and again waiting for Fili to go on.

            “After you left Erebor the last time,” Fili said quietly, turning in his chair move a tad closer to Kili, “I really took what you said to heart. I realized that I had, indeed, closed myself off. Not just to others, but to my own emotions. It was your advice to open my heart that I came to understand that what I really missed with your leaving and Opal’s passing was that I no longer had that close personal relationship like I shared with the two of you.

            “I realized I had closed myself off from mother, my sons, even our friends from the company. And when I finally opened my eyes, it dawned on me that it was that closing off that had allowed the council to ultimately move against me.

            “So, I decided that I would rejoin the world, so to speak, and found that I wasn’t as alone as I thought. Lord Calo had been a staunch supporter even before joining the newly formed council and while mother remained my chief advisor, I needed someone I could really bounce ideas and thoughts off of—someone who wasn’t restricted by blood or relations. Calo became that person. I saw that we shared more as well; we both lost our One suddenly, without warning. His husband had been killed while on patrol near southern Mirkwood.

            “It wasn’t long until I basically became the Thorin to his Dwalin. We talked together, spared together, we laughed, we joked, we drank, we _fought!_ Mahal—what a joy to have someone that gladly argued a point with passion and made me open my eyes and see other points of view! Honestly Kili, I was a better king for all this!”

            Kili only smiled as he watched Fili’s eyes light up in a way not seen since the early days of the courtship with Opal.

            “It was only a few years ago,” Fili continued, “that there was anything else between us. Honestly. It just happened that one night when I was tired and feeling the strain of rule and truly missing that intimate connection one shares with another, that Calo confessed that he too missed those moments of intimacy and before we knew it, we had one more thing in common, one more thing to share between us.”

            Fili looked away as he confessed this to Kili, as if he felt guilt or shame for this. No one who knew the pair had to be told that Kili was pained to see it.

            Kili moved quickly to bring Fili’s face towards him, placed his right hand at the nap of Fili’s neck and drew their foreheads together. Instantly Fili seemed to relax, and calm in the gesture and Kili reached up, and lay his other hand on Fili’s shoulder as Fili did the same to his brother.

            “Answer me one question, brother,” Kili whispered in the shared space between them. “Does he bring you comfort?”

            Fili drew a deep breath and released it before answering. “Yes,” Fili whispered in reply as if it was a relief to say it out loud. “On so many levels, yes. And to tell you the truth, he has said the same of me.”

            “Then don’t question it,” Kili replied. “Don’t analyze or pick it apart. Don’t look for explanations when none are needed. Cherish it and damn anyone that that would dare speak again it.”

            Fili laughed under his breath, relieved that his brother knew, accepted and didn’t judge—not that he really had any fear of Kili doing any such thing. But Fili also knew that Kili was more than aware that having such a relationship outside of one’s One, even when that person had passed on, was unusually rare and sometimes seen as inappropriate. Yet Fili just couldn’t bring himself to give Calo up—he wouldn’t.   

            And he knew as well, that if he could ask Opal, she would never had wanted Fili to be alone and unloved. Durin’s beard, Fili would _never_ have wanted his Opal to live a lonely life filled with sorrow if he had been the one to cross over first.   Calo had expressed similar feelings to Fili regarding his husband, Broim.

            As they moved apart, Fili had one last thing he had to confess to his brother.

            “I wish you would stay,” Fili said softly.

            “I know,” Kili replied with a small smile.

            “Is there no way I can tempt you to remain in Erebor?” Fili beseeched.

            “It’s not a matter of _me_ staying,” Kili answered as he glanced over to Frodo who he saw speaking now with Gimli.

            Fili nodded. He understood.

            “Know this, brother,” Fili offered. “If at any point your minds change, you both will be welcomed with open arms.”

            Kili just smiled—he didn’t have to respond, they both knew the statement was true and honestly meant. But he would follow his _‘sangimlel’_ , no matter where he led him.

 

\-----oooooOOOOO88888OOOOOooooo-----

 

            “Excuse me,” Frodo said, “I wonder if I may speak with you alone.”

            “Of course, Master Baggins!” Gimli said, giving Frodo a quick bow of his head. “It would be an honor.”

            Frodo blushed at that. “I don’t know how much of an honor it would be for you.”

            “Of course it would be an honor,” Gimli was almost shocked. “You are the nephew of a hero of Erebor, not to mention of a beloved consort and his king! You are tied to the line of Durin as kin and therefore, to myself. Have no doubt, Master Baggins, that it is an honor for me.”

            Frodo didn’t know what to say, but in the end he settled on, “Thank you, Master Gimli. And it’s just Frodo for me.”

            “Then it is _just_ , Gimli for me,” The flame-haired Dwarf said with a smile which Frodo returned brilliantly.

            “To be honest,” Frodo said, now feeling a little bolder, “what I really need is to ask a question that you may not be able to answer.”

            “Oh,” Gimli’s eyes got wide. “You have me at attention—what is this question?”

            Frodo took a quick breath. “I know that many of the Dwarrow’s ways are secret.”

            Gimli nodded; that really wasn’t a question.

            “Like your language,” Frodo said with a pointed look.

            Gimli nodded again but was clearly perplexed.

            “I wondered if you wouldn’t mind,” Frodo started, bracing himself, “telling me if your name as any particular meaning?”

            “Well, yes,” Gimli said quiet. “It does.” The Dwarf looked worried for a second but then his features cleared and he answered Frodo’s question. “It means ‘the star’ or just ‘star.’”

            “I see,” Frodo said, “Well, that leads me to another question. There is a word,” Frodo continued, “that I have heard—very similar to your name, and I was wondering if you might be able to help me with it’s meaning.”

            Gimli grimaced a tiny bit. “It is usually against our ways to speak of our language or translate for others.”

            “That’s true,” Frodo agreed with a nod of his head. “And normally I wouldn’t even ask. But in this case, I have the word actually written out for me and it was presented to me in writing.”

            Gimli could not hide his surprise. “Truly? Do you have the paper on which it was written, with you?”

            “It isn’t on paper,” Frodo said, already moving to unbutton the top two buttons of his shirt. He drew out his mithril chain and gentle took the medallion that Kili gifted him in his fingers and presented it to Gimli.

            Frodo watched as the Dwarf gazed at the medallion. Gimli didn’t say a word and after a minute or two gently lowered the chain to rest Kili’s gift on Frodo’s chest. Nothing was said and it became obvious that the Dwarf was thinking things over.

            Finally, Gimli drew a breath and spoke. “As you probably know,” Gimli said softly, “It is often said that Dwarrow only love once. This being is their, _‘sanâzyung’_ , which means _‘perfect, true/pure love.’_ ”

            Frodo nodded. “I figured as much. My Uncle Thorin calls my Uncle Bilbo that.”

            “I’m not surprised,” Gimli said with a lift of his bushy eyebrows. “Your uncles’ bond is well known.”     Gimli paused for a minute—obviously turning his thoughts over before continuing. “However, while unusual, it is far from unheard of for a Dwarf to find love again if they lose their One.

            “Now, to break down your word, _‘san’_ means ‘perfect, true or pure’, while _‘gimlel’_ means ‘star of stars.’ In general terms, the word _‘sangimlel’_ actually refers to the Guiding Star or North Star. The Star of Stars that all travelers use to navigate by.” Gimli paused again to puzzle over words. “But in terms of endearment, it’s—well, it’s—I mean—,” Gimli drew a quick, shaky breath.  

            “You see, Frodo, a Dwarf without their One will always wander aimlessly through life. For they are alone. But the Dwarf who has gifted you this medallion has told you, in a single word, that you shine for him—you guide him, like the North Star; you lead him home—to you. Because without you, he would be lost, alone, and doomed to wander forever.”

            Frodo froze. He had expected some from of endearment, and no one really had to tell him that it meant something to Kili, because he had always said it to Frodo in a soft, tender way that spoke of affection. But this was so much more, so beyond what he thought or guessed. It was overwhelming really.

            “Is everything alright?” Kili asked quietly as he came up behind Frodo. He looked from Frodo to Gimli and back with a questioning look.

            “If you will excuse me,” Gimli said with a bow to both the prince and the young Hobbit before moving off.

            Kili looked down and noticed the mithril chain with the medallion and golden ring on it, hang outside of Frodo’s shirt. His eyes snapped back up to meet Frodo’s. “Frodo, what where you talking about with Gimli? What did he say?”

            Frodo could see the concerned—almost fear-like, look in Kili’s eyes and he didn’t want to see that. No, that was the very last thing he wanted to see in his Dwarf’s eyes at that moment.

            “Can we go back to our room?” Frodo asked with a soft smile.

            “If you wish,” Kili was still looked uneasy but Frodo couldn’t do anything just yet about it.

            They left the banquet hall and made their way to the royal section of Erebor. Kili and Frodo were straying in the quest rooms, inside the Shire apartment. Thorin and Bilbo had been gifted their old apartment back and while both had protested, Fili had been adamant that it was theirs and always would be as long as either one of them breathed air in this world.

            As the door to their room closed, Kili could remain silent no longer.

            “Frodo,” he said, taking the Hobbit’s hands in his own. “Please tell me what’s going on.”

            Frodo gave him the best smile he could at the moment. It seemed so hard to look at Kili with all the emotions running through him. He wasn’t sure he could speak the words he wanted to say, so he showed Kili instead.

            Frodo removed his hands from the prince’s and gently cupped Kili’s face with them.   He brushed his thumbs over the Dwarf’s trim beard, loving the feel of the thick, soft hair on his palms and slowly drew Kili down for a kiss. Immediately, Kili wrapped his arms around Frodo’s waist and brought them close while at the same time, Frodo wrapped his arms around Kili’s neck to keep them together.

            No words were needed from that point on and their loving-making was passionate and consuming as it had never really been before. So much was expressed and shared between them without a single, uttered syllable of speech.

            Long afterwards, as the flickering light of the low-burning fire reflected off he walls, Frodo carded his hands through Kili’s hair as the Dwarf lay sleeping, his head on Frodo’s chest and his arms wrapped tightly still around Frodo’s waist.

            Frodo closed his eyes and his mind filled with the sound of Kili’s voice from long ago when the idea of loving the Dwarf has been but a child’s dream, _‘It’s all right, melhekh-mim.  I will always be there for you for adventures.’_

Frodo smiled to himself—if this was an adventure, then he never wanted it to end.

 

 

 

 


	19. A Heart Unheard

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Frodo and Kili are leaving for The Shire the next day -- but it was at the party the night before that Frodo shared something with Dwalin that was never expected

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this because it came to me out of the blue - it made me cry before i even put it on paper - and now, I must make you cry.
> 
> i am sorry, but it's a tale that must be told ....

* * *

 

            There was so much laughter and song and food and drink, that Dwalin couldn’t remember the last time there was so much merriment; probably after reclaiming the mountain and those first massive feasts in the following spring. He’d been to plenty of those—didn’t remember how any of them ended.

            Well, except that one he refused to talk about.

            Normally he wouldn’t go to one of these feasts, but since Thorin and Bilbo’s return, the former king had been dragging Dwalin out of his solitude—although he had insisted he preferred to be alone. But this one was special, because Kili and Frodo were heading back to The Shire on the morrow with Gandalf and everyone wanted to say good-bye.

            Dwalin poured himself an ale and looked for the company. Thorin had gone off to search for Bilbo, who was most likely sitting with Dis and chatting—well, gossiping really, but the two of them called it _‘catching up.’_ Dwalin finally spotted the familiar star-shaped styled hair of Nori and made to go over to join his friends.

            There was an explosion of laughter as he approached then heard Kili’s response to whatever the laughter was about.

            “I keep telling you,” Kili said defensively. “It was an easy mistake to make! They all look alike!”

            There was more laughter and Frodo leaned over and gave Kili a kiss on his cheek.

            “Are you talking about the time in Rivendell,” Dwalin said, getting everyone’s attention, “when Kili mistook the male Elf for a girl?”

            There was more laughter and even Kili couldn’t hold back a smile.

            “‘ _Can’t say I fancy Elf-maids, myself,’_ ” Nori said in a perfect Kili voice. “ _‘Although, that one there’s not bad.’_ ”Everyone snickered.

            “That’s when,” Dwalin said, “I had the privilege to point out, _‘That’s not an Elf-maid!’_ ”

            Once again, everyone roared with laughter and Kili was properly embarrassed. It took Frodo giving him kisses to make him relax and finally Kili was truly laughing as well.

            It was at that moment that Bofur arrived.

            “What have I missed?" Bofur asked taking a big swig of his ale.

            “Just some Kili teasing,” Bombur answered with a grin.

            “Sorry I missed that!” Bofur said, pulling a funny face.

            Frodo suddenly gasped and pointed to Bofur. “Now I remember!”

            The whole group stopped and stared between Frodo with his big blue eyes staring at Bofur, and Bofur himself who was looking like a rabbit caught in a trap.

            “Remembered what?” Kili asked looking suspicious.

            Frodo swallowed before continuing. “When we first arrived, I kept thinking that I had seen Bofur before! I mean, I know you were all at Bag End when I was a small child but there was something particular about Bofur.”

            “What about me?” Bofur sounded worried at whatever it was the Frodo was thinking but that the miner could not recall.

            “I remembered your hat, of course,” Frodo said. “But I couldn’t recollect the memory it, or you, where attached to. But you just made that funny face and now I remember!

            “I don’t think I was very old,” Frodo mused. “I remember Uncle Thorin—I think he was holding me, and Kili was there—looking over his shoulder and Bofur was making faces. I remember laughing at that.”

            “That sounds like the first time we all met you,” Bofur added softly, remembering the tiny Hobbit fauntling in Thorin’s arms.

            “You were all talking back and forth,” Frodo stated. “I also remember a Dwarf with silver hair and—” Frodo was lost for a moment. “He had very fancy braids in his hair.”

            The group grew quiet at those words.

            “That would have been Dori,” Nori said quietly.

            Frodo didn’t notice the looks exchanged between the Dwarfs as he continued with his memory. “I remember you were there as well,” Frodo said, turning to Dwalin. “You were arguing with Uncle Thorin about something.”

            “We all thought you looked like him,” Dwalin added gently. “While he insisted you looked like your Uncle Bilbo.”

            Frodo laught but pushed further. “I also remember another Dwarf,” Frodo turned his head around, clearly looking around for the one he was thinking of. “He was young, his hair and braids were copper-colored and he had a beard but no mustache.” Dwalin’s eyes grew slightly and neither he nor Frodo noticed the others turn worrisome looks to the warrior as both were lost in the memory now. “He had warm-brown eyes, pale skin and freckles across his nose!” Frodo giggled at the recollection.

            “That—”, Dwalin said soft. “That would—would have been Ori.”

            “Ori,” Frodo said, testing the name on his lips. “I remember he had a beautiful smile.”

            The other’s looks were turning fearful now, but again, Dwalin and Frodo did not notice.

            “He,” Dwalin swallowed thickly, “always did love children.”

            “Oh, but” Frodo said with a little laugh. “He wasn’t smiling at me,” Frodo turned to Dwalin and failed to see the tears pooling in his eyes. “He was smiling at you.”

            That was the final straw.

            Dwalin’s face crumbled and Frodo could only watch in shock as tears rolled down the warrior’s face. Dwalin turned and pushed his way through the crowd. Frodo looked back at the group and finally saw the pain on their faces; Bombur had his eyes closed and covered his mouth with a hand. Nori was looking down and had turned his face away from Frodo to hide the tears that were still seen to fall on the spymaster’s boots. Bofur looked very solemn as he put an arm around Nori’s shoulders and drew him closer.

            Frodo finally turned to Kili for help, because helpless was what he felt.

            “Ori,” Kili said, just above a whisper, “was Dwalin’s husband—they broke their contract and then Ori left for Khazad-dûm twelve years ago.”

            “And Dwalin’s never heard from him since,” Bombur added calmly.

            Frodo was horrified. He hadn’t meant to cause anyone pain; to him, it had just been a fond memory of a time long past. He had forgotten the first rule of remembering—not everyone remembers the same thing in the same way.

            “Oh, goodness,” Frodo said, “I didn’t mean to—”

            “Of course you didn’t, lad,” Bofur said settling his one free hand on Frodo’s shoulder. “You couldn’t have known.”

            “I still feel terrible about it,” Frodo added

            “Spoken like a true Hobbit,” Kili said with a gentle smile.

            Frodo returned the smile but it was pained. He turned and made his way to find Dwalin. He wasn’t sure where to look for the Dwarf, but he felt he had to apologize. Even if it hadn’t been meant, Frodo felt he had still caused injury.

            It only took five minutes but Frodo found Dwalin alone on a bench, in a far corner of the great room. The Dwarf sat with his elbows on his knees, his hands clenched together and seemed to be staring a hole in the floor.

            “Mister Dwalin,” Frodo said quietly, not wanting to startle the Royal Captain.

            Dwalin looked up and for a moment, Frodo had to step back as he was graced with a piercing, thunderous expression. But on seeing Frodo's fearful eyes, Dwalin deflated.

            “If you don’t mind, Master Baggins—,” Dwalin started.

            “I just want to say how very sorry I am,” Frodo said stepping closer. “I never meant to cause you grief.”

            Dwalin just stared back at the young Hobbit, obviously thinking over what he had said, because he finally nodded. “I know you didn’t, lad. It’s just me being silly.”

            “Nonsense,” Frodo said surging forward and sitting next to the burly Dwarf. “Uncle Thorin told me once that tears speak for our hearts. Never let your heart go unheard.”

            Dwalin’s face crumbled again and this time, he turned and pulled Frodo into a warm embrace and finally cried his tears openly for his One.

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FYI - This little chapter relates to two others - Chapter 8 "Family, Part 1" (the gathering that Frodo is remembering), and Chapter Chapter 11 "March of Time, Part 2" (mentions in more detail the party Dwalin never speaks of and why he never speaks of it).


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